


Give Me A Minute

by Prncelouie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Divorce, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Crying, M/M, Mentions of Therapy, Recreational Drug Use, Social drinking, descriptions of harry with omc but nothing graphic, lots of emotions, louis has lesbian aunts, not between h/l, sad boi harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:52:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prncelouie/pseuds/Prncelouie
Summary: By the time he was 23 Harry had  it figured out. He had married his best friend and college sweetheart, moved to London, and become fast friends with his elderly, lesbian neighbors. By the time Louis is 25, he has lost his job, is losing money fast, and has lost yet another boyfriend. Having no other choice, Louis moves in with his aunts who are helping their young neighbor get back on his feet as well. By the time Louis meets Harry, Harry has an impending divorce and a new therapist.OR the one where Harry discovers his husband cheating on him and his new neighbor Louis might just be the one to help pull him back from the edge.





	1. What About Us

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit, okay this is my first long larry fic and I'm honestly very proud of this. It all started because I was sitting in a coffeeshop looking for inspiration while listening to a sad boi playlist. I decided to just write about a waterbottle and see where that went and well... the rest is history I suppose.  
> First things first, big huge thank you to Nikki for being my cheerleader and beta since day 1. I'm so blessed to have gotten to know you over these past months and I'm so incredibly grateful you volunteered to help me out with this thing. You've talked me off the ledge so many times and reading your comments throughout the writing process kept me going more than I think I could possibly tell you. Also, for bragging on me in various group chats thx for those little ego boosts. your writing has been such an inspiration to me. ilysm  
> Second, to Razzle, my dearest best friend. Thank you for reading all the little snippets I sent you and being my absolute biggest fan. Thank you for reading the doc every time I updated it. Thank you for talking through my plot with me. Thank you for being my rock. Thank you for everything. I love you so much and this one is for you <3  
> Finally, thank you to the mods of the Big Bang for everything you do!
> 
> i'm on tumblr @prncelouie come say hi :) 
> 
> Okay before you read, the title comes from "Beam Me Up" by P!nk and honestly if you want the vibe of this story listen to her whole album "Beautiful Trauma" and that's what I was listening to for the majority of my writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is What About Us by P!nk   
> eventually i'll add the playlist I used while I was writing but I am very tired rn

August

When Harry opened his eyes, there was another water bottle set on his nightstand. The room was still and silent except for a slight breeze from the fan slowly twirling above his head, although it wasn’t doing much more than pushing stale air around the room. Lazy sunlight filtered through the blinds. Harry turned away from the window. He knew there was no deity set out to rub salt in his wounds and yet the yellow glow on his floor does nothing but make him ache. Harry closes his eyes again and hopes when they open the light will be gone.

When Harry opens his eyes, there is a pack of crackers set next to the water bottle. He can’t exactly recall the last time he ate but the thought of anything passing his lips sounds like torture. His stomach whines and grumbles as he pulls the blankets tighter around his shoulders. Water. He can at least stomach some water. Reaching with a shaky hand, Harry picks up the water and presses it to his lips. There is no more light in his room and the water is cold. Harry doesn’t want to think about it. He closes his eyes and hopes when they open he won’t be numb.

When Harry opens his eyes, there is a box of tissues between the crackers and a new water bottle. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He doesn’t want to feel anything. Harry clenches his jaw as everything comes rushing back in a tsunami of pain. He can feel the ice water rushing through his veins. The needles stabbing into the tips of his fingers and the rock currently stuck in his throat. He tries to swallow the emotion down but it’s as if he tripped a wire and he can’t stop the boulder from rushing up his throat. His stomach clenches and he quickly throws his shoulders over the side of the bed and vomits onto the carpet. He sobs and heaves until there couldn’t possibly be any substance left in his body. He closes his eyes and hopes when they open he won’t feel like he’s on fire.

When Harry opens his eyes, there is a body shuffling along the carpet next to the bed. As much as Harry wants to close his eyes and pretend the source of his anguish wasn’t mere inches from his nose, the sound of a scrub brush against the carpet bounces around the room. Thankfully, the smell of the cleaner is powerful enough to cover that smell that he loves so much. How did everything fall apart so quickly? He closes his eyes and prays they don’t open.

When Harry opens his eyes, he feels warmth against his back. For a second, he relaxes into the touch before his brain catches up. Immediately, his body stiffens and his breath quickens.  _ How dare he. How fucking dare he think he’s allowed to touch me, _ plays on a loop in his head. Without thinking Harry breaks free of the grip and jumps out of the bed. His chest is rattling with anxiety and his legs shake as he watches Michael wake up. As soon as Michael’s eyes open they meets Harry’s. Harry isn’t sure exactly how he looks in that moment but he is sure it’s no pretty sight. 

He hasn’t showered in several days. Having barely eaten and being emotionally stripped, Harry is running on pure adrenaline. He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing.” He growls.

“Baby, please let me expla-” Michael quickly sits up and begins to crawl towards Harry.

“You don’t get to fucking do this Michael. You don’t get to pretend it never happened. You don’t get to fucking shatter me and then fucking touch me like that. What did you think would happen? Fuck you. Don’t fucking touch me. Don’t even fucking look at me.” Harry doesn’t want that. Harry wants Michael to grab him and pull him back into the bed. Harry wants Michael to tell him it never happened, that he would never hurt him like that. He wants Michael to press his lips to his neck and tell him he loves him. He wants everything. Instead he says, “I swear to god I’m fucking done,” and storms out of the room.

Harry was always one to wear his heart on sleeve and it often left him stitching the broken halves together on his own. Despite the heartache, Harry found Michael and he believed him when Michael said he would never let his heart break again. Harry believed him when Michael kissed the outline of the tattoo on his arm and whispered lovely things into the ink. Wrapped around each other in the dark, Michael would place a hand over Harry’s chest and tell him how brave he was. How grateful he was that Harry kept putting his heart out there for Michael to protect. When Michael had tattooed his own heart on his sleeve, Harry had been sure he would never love anyone the way he loved Michael. It had been so good; he had been so happy- so safe.

Harry stumbled into the kitchen, his legs feeling detached from his torso. He gripped the edge of the counter with both hands allowing the edge to dig into his palms, he squeezed just a bit tighter hoping to materialize the ache that was taking over his body. The sudden departure from their bedroom had left Harry just a touch out of breath and his head spinning. Black dots swam in his vision as his continued to try and ground himself. Did Michael follow him? Did he want Michael to follow him? It was like he didn’t know anything anymore.

The counter was littered with all the pieces of their lives that had molded together over time. Ticket stubs and receipts piling in a bowl, detailing every dinner they shared. Two sets of keys, one with only the key to the house and one for the car, one with nearly ten rewards cards, several key chains, and a separate ring with actual keys. The lack of dishes in the sink spoke to how desperately Michael was trying to fix the world that was crumbling beneath their feet. Dropping into one of the chairs and laying his head in his arms, Harry heaved a sigh. Time stops for no one and walking into the kitchen only sent a flood of guilt through him. No one knew except him and Michael. Maybe he didn’t have to tell anyone, maybe Michael could walk in here and together they would swear to never speak of it again. They could move on with their lives, keep working through the bucket list taped to their fridge and love each other until the end of time. When people asked where Harry has been they could say he had a nasty fever and he’s still recovering and that’s why his eyes look just a bit bleaker. He could learn to laugh away the pain.

Rolling his forehead onto the counter he wished for the cool granite to leech the heat from his head. Harry closed his eyes. Before long he felt fingers pushing the hair away from his eyes. Looking up at Michael, he didn’t recognize his husband. Worry lines etched into his forehead displayed his own anguish. Darkness under his eyes suggested an insomnia to rival Harry’s hypersomnia. The beard that Harry usually loved to rub his cheek against was scraggly and patchy like he couldn’t stop rubbing it.

“Harry, we need to talk.”

Harry puffed his cheeks and sat up. The dull pain in his neck and back after drifting off at the counter worsening. “I don’t know what there is to say.”

“Harry… I love you. You’re it for me. I can’t live without you.” Michael took a deep breath and continues in a low whisper,  “I know you hate me right now and I know there’s not really anything I can say to make this better but I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back.” Michael reached a hand out to Harry’s cheek and caught the tears leaking from his eyes with his thumb. Harry couldn’t help but lean into the touch he thought he knew so well.

“Why.” It wasn’t a question. There was no challenge in Harry’s voice, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know why.

“Har-”

“No Michael, tell me why. Tell me why I wasn’t enough. Tell me everything. I need to know.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well I didn’t want to walk in on my husband fucking his secretary next to our wedding photos. We don’t always get what we fucking want.” Despite the ferocity of his words, Harry’s voice remained steady.

The color drained out of Michael’s face.


	2. Unsteady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is Unsteady by X Ambassadors (i think i listened to this song literally every time i sat down to write because it's just so harry to me??)

November

The damn lock was stuck again. It didn’t matter how much WD40 Harry dumped onto the hinge, the thing would just refuse to open again. Michael used to scold Harry for getting too frustrated with the door, he said it would only get worse if he kept fighting it. Fuck that. Harry threw his shoulder into the wood trying to dislodge it from the frame even a millimeter. The deadbolt had definitely turned, the click of it pulling out of place had shook the handle. Yet, the door still wouldn’t budge.

Not unlike his 3-year old nephew, Harry stomped his foot in frustration. He wasn’t going to cry about the door, it was a door, just a sticky, old door in an old building with a cranky landlord. He gave the door a solid kick, but all that managed to do was bruise his big toe and his ego. Leaning his forehead to the chipping paint, he heaved a sigh. If it weren’t for the pile of term papers waiting to be graded inside, he would just go to Niall and Liam’s for the night. Harry could almost feel the bags under his eyes pulling themselves farther down his face at this point.

“Harry? Darling, are you alright?”

Harry jolted, smacking his nose into the doorframe. Cursing under his breath and clutching his nose, he turned. Georgia stood behind him clutching several bags full of groceries in each of her hands. Her usual flyaway grey hair was pulled into a loose bun on top of her head, although several strands still floated around her face. A large puffy coat rested unzipped overtop a long dress that nearly covered her combat boots. Concern was written over her face, but the moment she caught sight of Harry clutching his nose she promptly put her bags down. Reaching forward, she pulled his hand away and tsked.

“Darling, you’re bleeding. Come on then. Let’s get you out of this cold.” All Harry could do was nod and follow her one door over.

She pushed the door open and held it open with one foot as Harry trailed behind. Her flat was exactly as he remembered it. Mismatched knick-knacks and books covered nearly every surface, two sofas pushed against adjacent walls held approximately ten blankets each. Walking into the flat was like coming home. Each Sunday, Georgia and her partner, Eliza, had acted surprised when Harry and Michael showed up with a dinner. The women would protest, telling them there was no need to prepare food for them. Yet, every Sunday there were four plates set and dessert waiting on the counter. But it had been weeks since Harry had wandered the 3 yards to knock on their door.

He hadn’t had the energy to tell them that Michael wouldn’t be coming for dinner anymore let alone throw together a dish. There were several occasions that two short knocks had sounded through his apartment and knowing it was his well-meaning neighbors, he had dutifully ignored it. Georgia and Eliza only knew Harry as the bloke who baked and laughed. They didn’t need to meet the Harry who couldn’t get out of bed most days unless he had to drive to the university for class. They didn’t need to meet Harry who ordered dinner once a week because it took him a week to eat one meal. They didn’t need to meet Harry who wore hats to cover how much grease accumulated in his hair.

Georgia guided Harry to the table he used to spend so many evenings at. She told him to keep leaning forward while she went to grab an ice pack. Harry did as he was told and soon Georgia returned with a cold pack, a box of face wipes, and tissues. With a quiet thank you, Harry pressed the pack to his face, the cold made him wince but it was a welcome distraction from the ache that was building in his chest. The click of heels against the hardwood floor signaled that Eliza had entered the room. Harry suppressed a groan, it was bad enough to see Georgia after all this time, but seeing Eliza was like jumping into a ravine of memories.

Moving into the flat had been nothing short of a pain in Harry’s ass. The moving service they had hired wasn’t as diligent as they had originally advertised, which meant Harry was left assembling furniture for days. As frustrating as it was for Michael to have to leave for a work trip the week they moved in, Harry had taken the opportunity to try and surprise Michael when he returned. He had envisioned his newlywed husband walking through the door to a beautifully decorated flat; his jaw would drop and then he would catch sight of Harry perched on their new sofa. So wrapped up in their love for each other they would christen every corner of the flat with no regards for the consequences.

Unfortunately, things were not going exactly according to Harry’s fantasy and as he sat in a pile of instruction booklets and toolkits, Harry found it difficult to restrain himself. One look at the manual for the BJÖRKSNÄS shattered the veil of togetherness Harry had managed to create for himself. Before he knew it, there were tears streaming down his face and he was wailing as if no one could hear him. Unbeknownst to him, the movers have left the door to his flat wide open, letting his cries bombard the hall outside. How he ended up wrapped in the arms of an unknown woman, Harry wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he was suddenly enveloped by the smell of lavender and vanilla and drenching the shoulder of what felt like a very expensive blouse.She held him until his cries subsided and he was left curled into her side, trembling slightly. 

“Come dear, let’s make some tea and biscuits. Georgia’s working on a loaf right now, I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

Blindly trusting the soothing voice in his ear, he stood with the woman and ended up exactly where he was sat now. The first time he set foot in the apartment he had been assaulted by the smell of smoke and looking into the kitchen to the right he was met with chaos. Black smoke was billowing out of an open stove, the smoke detector appeared to have been ripped out of the ceiling, and the foulest language he had ever heard was coming from the floor. He immediately prepared for Eliza to spring into some kind of action, instead laughter rang in his ears.

“Gee? Babe? You good?” Curly grey hair popped up from behind the counter attached to a woman with fire in her eyes. A smile fought its way through the obvious frustration on her face when she saw the pair standing in the entranceway.

“Pick up another stray?” She teased as she stood and made her way over to where Harry was stood. “What’s your name, love?” The light tone of her voice starkly contrasted with the disarray of the kitchen. Just as Harry opened his mouth to speak a loud beeping came from the bin. The woman- Georgia- stomped over and pulled out the culprit. Promptly dropping it on the kitchen floor, she stomped it with her combat boot until the noise subsided. Harry didn’t even notice he had stopped crying.  

Harry was jolted from his memories by Eliza lifting the cold pack from his face. “That must smart.” She whispered before allowing Harry to arrange it back in place. Eliza settled into the chair next to Harry. Just looking at her nearly sent him into a fit not unlike the one she had found him in just a year ago.

Eliza took the seat next to Georgia at the table. An expectant silence settled around them making Harry squirm just slightly in his seat. Logically, he knew that they wouldn’t push him to tell them anything, but Harry was starting to feel like it was his responsibility to be the bearer of bad news.

A sigh escaped from his chest as he pulled the cold from his face and looked at the women across from him. “Michael and I are getting divorced.” The words came out in such a rush that Harry wasn’t sure if he actually said them or if he imagined it. The lack of surprise on Eliza’s face starkly contrasted the drop of Georgia’s jaw, but verified that he had officially told someone beyond his family what was happening. And his world didn’t come crumbling down around him in that moment. It was both a monumental admittance and incredibly anticlimactic. Harry wasn’t usually dramatic but he expected a piece of sky to fall to the ground when he told them. He was ready to hear the dramatic screams of innocents having their belief in love shattered around him. He was ready to have his gay card revoked for ruining the sanctity of marriage on two fronts.

“You’re too good for him anyways.” Georgia whipped a hand out and smacked Eliza’s shoulder.

“El, knock it off.” She whispered as if Harry wasn’t three feet away.

“What? It’s true! I never was a fan of his. I mean c’mon, how many times did you hear him compliment the lovely dishes I know only Harry cooked? Never! Harry deserves someone much better than that! It’s not too much to ask your  _ husband _ to help you carry a plate or hold the door. Plus, he never helped clean up, dickhead.”

Silence settled over the room again. Georgia was shooting daggers at Eliza with her mouth set in a stern frown. Eliza met that gaze with indignance. A bark of laughter shattered the air around them. Georgia and Eliza turned to see Harry bent over in his chair. Brown curls bouncing around his face, the shaking of his shoulders could easily be mistaken for sobbing. The smile on his face and crinkles around his eyes sharply contradicted the bomb he had just dropped.

Harry clutched his chest and gasped for air, “Oh my god… I’m so sorry… I can’t help it” He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. Georgia reached across the table and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and pressed her fingertips lightly into his shirt.

Harry had read once that there was a misconception about happy and sad being opposites. While most people thought joy and misery were equivalent to night and day, the truth was much more coercive. The two were more like the stars and the moon. Existing within the same plane, making a switch from one to the other more of a shuffle than a leap. In the moment he felt Georgia’s warmth on his shoulder he felt the shuffle. A moment that had felt like freedom, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, suddenly released the dam he hadn’t realized he had built up over the past few weeks. The laughter that had jumped from his throat just moments became fits of tears.

The moment Eliza caught sight of the shift, she stood and guided Harry from the table to the couch. Georgia snatched one of the blankets off the back of their couch and wrapped it around his trembling shoulders. The grief of the last several weeks washed over him again and drowned him. With Georgia and Eliza pressed to either side of him and his face aching more with each rattling breath, Harry closed his eyes.

***

Harry jolted awake to the sound of a crash and a curse. Dazed and confused, he attempted to sit up only to be met with a hand pushing him back down.

“Look who finally joined the living.” Eliza ran her fingers through his hair and kept his head poised in her lap. Blinking, Harry took in his surroundings. He was still wrapped in the blanket Georgia had given him earlier and he was curled up on the couch with his head in Eliza’s lap. Someone had taken his shoes off and a bustling coming from the kitchen confirmed Georgia’s location.

This was certainly not how his evening was supposed to go. He had about 12 more term papers to grade by tomorrow morning’s lecture and the pile of dishes in his sink certainly wasn’t going to fix itself. Although, lying here wrapped in warmth with soothing fingers running absentmindedly through his hair, he wasn’t about to get up. For these few moments, he was able to pretend that his life hadn’t fallen apart.

Harry had had his heart broken before and he had picked up the pieces by himself before. In his youth he had fallen hard and fast for the wrong people time and time again. He was used to the searing burn running through his chest and pooling darkness in his stomach. There were many weekends he spent curled up in his bed watching his favorite romantic comedies trying to prove to himself love wasn’t dead. He knew how to take the shattered ends of his emotions and duct tape them back together until they resembled something whole. Harry didn’t know where to start with numb. He wasn’t in shards on the ground, rather it was as if the ground had been ripped from underneath him and he was floating. It should have felt like falling, but falling has an end goal- a ground to smack into and punch the air out of your lungs. Floating felt like nothing. And Harry felt nothing.

Georgia entered the living room and settled next to Eliza on the end of the couch. Eliza hadn’t said anything while Harry slowly came back to consciousness, but Harry knew she had questions for him. He sat up slowly and felt the familiar pounding in his head. Many mornings he had woken up with the ache reminding him of the night before’s breakdown.

“I should get back to my flat. Thank you for the tea.” His voice was thick with sleep and his eyes drooping shut again betrayed him.

“Darling you don’t have to leave. Feel free to stay and have tea with us.” Eliza kept a hand on his back even as Harry began to search for his shoes.

“Um thanks, yeah I would but I really need to… um I think I left my groceries in the hall.”

“Georgia brought those into our place, love.”

“Oh… Thank you.” Harry rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and grasped at the short hairs. “Um… Thank you for your hospitality. I really need to go.”

Before Eliza or Georgia could get up from the couch, Harry had grabbed his shoes and dashed down the hall towards the door. Gathering all his groceries into his two hands, he shouted another thanks and bid farewell to the two ladies who had finally gotten into his line of sight. Before they could say anything else to persuade him, Harry had disappeared.

It’s dark and cold in his flat once Harry finally wrestles the lock open. Managing to heave the groceries into his kitchen, he finally flips a single light on. He prefers it to be dark, the light only reminds him what’s missing. His feet shuffle back and forth over the wood floors as he puts everything away. As usual, he just doesn’t have it in him to try and cook dinner. So he pulls down the last bowl in the cupboard and goes to his fridge. On the top shelf, he spies the casserole Liam had sent him home with a week ago. Pulling the carton out, he dug out the last serving and grabbed a fork from the sink that appeared to be clean. Taking his cold leftovers and the final stack of papers with him, Harry slunk to his bed.

Well, it wasn’t his bed. But the guest room was the only place that didn’t feel all-consuming. It was the only other bedroom in the flat. With just enough room for a desk and a bed, the room hadn’t lent itself all that well to group hangouts. There was only one way to actually access the bed as the rest of the space was filled with boxes. Boxes full of Harry’s clothes and notebooks and other essentials. He had convinced Liam to help him move all of his stuff out of the master bedroom the day after Michael left. Harry had intended to continue sleeping in the master bedroom purely out of spite. After spending the night with Michael’s ghost, he had stumbled into Familiar Faces the next day barely coherent enough to tell Niall that he needed all the coffee he could legally purchase. Poor Liam hadn’t meant much by his offer to help Harry, and being as exhausted as he was, Harry wasn’t too ashamed to admit he needed help. Not in the way that he REALLY needed help, but he did know he couldn’t spend another night in that room. When Liam had questioned why he was helping Harry move all of his shirts out of the biggest bedroom in their flat, Harry had made up some flimsy excuse about a leak in the roof and Michael being out of town. Thankfully, Liam hadn’t known him too well by that point and bringing Niall along made it easier for him to change the subject easily. Niall was solely motivated by the promise of beer and pizza afterwards and had no intention to ask any more questions that stood between him and a pint.

In the bed he had never intended to be in his own, Harry picked at the cold food and trudged through the final essays. Around midnight, he found he could no longer force himself to keep his eyes open and pushed his pens and the final paper to the empty side of the bed. Promising himself he would finish his work in the morning, he didn’t bother undressing before slipping into a fitful sleep.

*****

No one ever knocked on Louis’ door. Teaching teenagers in their final semester of school meant the only people who were coming to see him were there to plead for a boost in their grades. Teaching theatre kids meant those aforementioned students usually burst through the door already spitting out a monologue- knocking was an obstacle to their dramatic flair. It also didn’t help that his office was hidden in the back corner of the top floor of the school. Which meant stumbling on his fair share of couples trying to get away from the main bustle. Louis swore he spent more time cockblocking than grading.

So when the rasp of knuckles against his door sounded through his office, Louis was startled to look up and see the Headmaster standing in his doorway. Headmaster Simon Cowell wasn’t often seen outside his office, ****.

Louis decided to stand as Headmaster Cowell strode into the room. Without acknowledging Louis, he took a seat in one of the torn up chairs facing Louis’ desk. If it was possible to stutter with your body, Louis did so and finally managed to find his seat again.

“Headmaster, I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Louis tried to keep his voice nonchalant although he could feel his stomach trembling. Seeing Simon’s lack of acknowledgment, he rambled on, “Did we have a meeting set up that I don’t remember? My wifi isn’t great up here- did you email me earlier today? I’ve been grading papers for quite a while and you know how you can just get lost in the grading-”

“Louis you have been a wonderful asset to this school over the past several years.” Simon cut him off and Louis shrunk into his seat. Headmasters rarely visited their employee’s offices to pay them random compliments. It was at that moment Louis noticed the door had been shut behind Simon. “I’m afraid it’s bad news.” Simon said as he slid an envelope across the desk to Louis.

*****

As with any good shop, Familiar Faces has its regulars. There’s George, the patron who sits at the counter and chats with every customer as they wait for their drink- he always manages to remember what they said before and brings it up if he meets them again. There is Hannah, one of Harry’s students from the prior semester who sets up her laptop in the corner booth every day and ferociously hammers at her keyboard. During an end of semester conference with her, Hannah had revealed her desire to become a writer despite her parent’s desire for her to become a chemist. Jalen is the delivery boy for the floral shop down the block. Every week Liam ordered a new bunch to place throughout the store and would thank Jalen for his delivery with a drink. Then there was Harry, the young professor who had been coming to the shop for about a year and a half and had managed to become fast and close friends with the owners in that time.

Harry considers it an honor to be a regular at the cozy café down the street from the University. After officially being hired on as an English professor, Harry had decided to explore the area a bit more. Michael had claimed to have to work late and couldn’t join Harry on his excursion. It was that afternoon he had wandered into the café in search of a hot drink and had been met with dirty blonde hair and a contagious smile attached to a charming Irishman named Niall. It helped that he had managed to find the most delicious chai latte he had ever tasted that same afternoon made by a puppy dog eyed barista named Liam.

After waking up well before he usually did to finish grading, Harry shuffled into Familiar Faces hoping to ease the fatigue that seemed to comprise each bone in his body. As usual, Niall was behind the counter seeming to walk with a literal bounce in his step.

“Not manning the register this morning, Nialler?” Harry pulled the corners of his mouth up in what he hoped came across as a smile.

“Mornin’ Harry!” Niall quickly exited from behind the counter and pulled Harry into a rib-cracking hug. It wasn’t unusual for Harry to start his days off with a hug from Niall, however, this morning Niall seemed to hold him just a bit tighter and a bit longer than normal. Harry wondered if he looked ragged enough for Niall to pick up on his sleep deprivation.

“Erm- Niall? How do I charge for an extra pump?” A voice came from behind the counter

“One mo’” Niall looked at Harry and rolled his eyes before heading back behind the counter to help a timid looking young man. “Harry, c’mover and meet the newest addition to the family!” 

“Mornin’, I’m Shawn. You’re Harry, I assume? Niall’s only mentioned you, let me see if I got this right, ten thousand times?” Shawn smiled, showing off a rather fantastic set of cheekbones.

“Right then, good things I hope?” Harry reached out to shake Shawn’s hand as Niall fumbled with the register.

“If I stuck with that I’d be out of things to talk about pretty fast,” Niall interjected with a wink.

“I apologize for him, Shawn. Sometimes he gets the notion he’s charming. Don’t let him fool you.” Liam appeared from a door behind the counter with a tray of fresh muffins in his hand and began to stack them in the display case in anticipation of the next wave of customers.

“Uh which one, Curly or Ireland?” Shawn said, turning to smile at Liam. The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched upwards as he attempted to feign a look of indignance.

“I’m shocked and appalled, Shane, truly, I am.”

“Shawn”

Harry tilted his head but kept his chin aloof, “Hm, the desires of the help are not a primary concern of mine and therefore shall be ignored until further notice. Neil, be a dear and get my drink prepared.” Liam giggled and shook his head as Niall rolled his eyes and mumbled something about banishing Harry from the shop. Passing some cash to Shawn, Harry winked and snatched the last muffin from Liam’s tray.

The day passes in a blur after leaving the shop. Objectively, Harry knows he held office hours and helped a student revise one of their rough drafts. He knows he attended his lectures and knows he took the tube back to his flat. Harry knows he ate something, although he can’t quite remember what that was. Just as he had every day, Harry did what was expected of him on autopilot and retired to the guest bed.

A pounding at his door jolted Harry awake in the moments before he drifted asleep. He heaved a sigh and pushed himself up off the mattress. Pulling the door open, Harry was met by Eliza wrapped in a blanket.

“Uh- hello.”

“Hello Harry, can we talk?” Harry nodded dumbly and stepped out of the way for Eliza to come into the flat. Without waiting for anymore invitation, Eliza headed straight for the couch in his living room. Dropping her blanket behind her as she took a seat, she motioned for Harry to join her.

“Um I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?” Harry asked as he lowered himself next to her.

Eliza leaned into the back of the couch and propped her elbow up on the cushions as she pulled her legs up to cross in front of her. “Harry,” she paused and scanned his face, “answer me honestly, are you doing okay?”

As badly as Harry wanted to lie, there was something disarming about Eliza. She had met him during one of his worst moments and had soldiered on as if nothing had happened. Harry also knew that there was no use in lying to her, because she would eventually drag the truth out of him if it killed them both in the process. Sometimes it was annoying to have good people in his life.

Harry pulled his lip between his teeth and shook his head. “I- uh- no. I don’t really know what I’m doing at this point.” Harry quickly looked up at the ceiling hoping gravity would pull the tears back into his eyes. “It all fell apart so quickly. Like everything was fine. We were really fine- I don’t even know what happened to be honest. One day he was the love of my life and I was ready to grow old with him and that same day it was like everything was ripped away from me.” As he continued to speak, Harry’s voice became more strained and he couldn’t stop a few stray tears from falling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, love.” Eliza took his hands in her own and squeezed. “Do you want to talk about it more?”

Harry took a steadying breath and blinked the blurriness from his eyes. “I just don’t know if it was my fault. Like he told me that it had nothing to do with me but that doesn’t make any sense ya know? Because I was…am… his husband and it has everything to do with me. I thought I was doing enough to keep him satisfied? He never said it wasn’t enough and I think if that was really the issue he would have said something because that’s what you do when you’re married right?”

“I don’t want to interrupt you- but I don’t think I understand?”

Harry pursed his lips and realized that even though he had told Eliza about the divorce, he hadn’t given them anymore detail. Michael’s infidelity was such a constant truth in his mind, it was jarring to remember no one else knew.

“Michael cheated on me. I saw it. I walked in and saw it.”

Eliza’s mouth gaped open. The day before it had been horrifyingly funny to see other people come to terms with the truth that was turning his world around; today it felt tragic. Eliza had instinctively grabbed her chest in shock. “Oh Harry… I don’t even know what to say.”

Harry ran his now free hand through his hair, “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have said anything. It doesn’t really matter.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant. Harry I am so glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. Pardon my asking… but have you told anyone else?”

Harry shook his head in response, “My mum and sister know we’re splitting up and but that’s all they know for now.”

“Have you thought about speaking to someone? Like a counselor?”

“I don’t know if there’s any point to that really. I just need time to grieve is all, I’m not mental.” Harry knew the last part came out a bit harsher than he had intended but Eliza seemed to take it in stride.

“Have I ever told about the year my sister died?” Harry shook his head. “It was devastating. Georgia couldn’t get me out of bed for anything. I think that is one of the few times in my life I legitimately felt nothing. I had to be numb because if I felt anything it was such an immense pain that I would break down.” Eliza pursed her lips and let a joyless smile spread over her face, “I can’t count the number of times I had to call Georgia to a random shop or restaurant bathroom because I was trapped on the floor sobbing.”

“Eliza… I’m so sorry.” Harry reached out for her shoulder.

“Why?” Eliza looked shocked for a minute. Her eyes grew wider and seemed to stare right through Harry, “Did you do it? Did you kill my sister?”

Harry’s eyebrows flew up and he nearly jumped out of his skin as her voice jumped in decibels. “What? No!” His hands flew up in front of him and he felt his stomach drop.

“I’m just fucking with ya!” Eliza burst into laughter and reached out for Harry. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug as she continued to giggle. “I’m so sorry, love. I had to break the tension.” Harry dropped the tension he had held in his shoulders and sat up to look at Eliza. “You’re allowed to feel happy and laugh, it won’t invalidate your pain or the trauma of what you’re going through. But you are allowed to have moments where you forget. It doesn’t make anything less real.”

“Yeah- it’s hard to remember that I guess.”

“I don’t want to push you to do anything, but I want to give you the number to the person I saw. You don’t have to be mental to go see someone. Besides it always helps to have someone to talk to.” Eliza pulled a business card out of her pocket and placed it on the coffee table.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered as Eliza pressed a kiss to his forehead and rose from the couch.

“Don’t go around telling people I’m soft. I have a reputation to uphold.” She said as she winked and closed the door behind her.


	3. But We Lost It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is But We Lost It by P!nk

There was about as much hatred in Louis’ entire body as there was in an average person’s left hand. But today, in this moment, Louis felt every cell of his being twitching. He was certain the very footprints he was leaving behind him were scorch marks from the fire he seemed to be walking on. His eyes were trained on the horizon, but he saw nothing as he strode home. Every thought was erased from his brain, there was nothing he could think beyond  _ Fuck Simon Cowell. _ Not in the weird-dream-he-had-had-after-too-much-tequila-one-night kind of way, in the needing-to-hide-sharp-objects-from-himself-in-case-he-ever-saw-that-fuckers-face-again way. He could feel a headache taking route behind his temples and was aching to drink himself into a stupor to forget this terrible, awful day.

He couldn’t help himself from slamming the door as he entered his flat sending Olivia flying from her nest of blankets. Once inside his empty flat, Louis threw his bag and jacket to the ground and stormed to his room. Despite his shaking hands, he managed to shove the charger into his phone. Dropping all of his weight onto the bed, he waited for his phone to light up again. He didn’t notice Olivia leaping onto his bed until he felt a bump on his arm and looked down at her calico face smushed into his sleeve.

“You’re fucking ridiculous; you are aware?” Olivia didn’t answer him and continued to grind her face into his arm until he began to pet her. “I don’t know what we’re going to do Liv. We can’t stay here if I don’t have steady money… fuck… I’d been looking for jobs on the side. Do you think he found out and that’s why?” Louis looked at his cat as if she could provide him with a genuine response. Instead she chirped and rolled onto her side, staring up at him with gleaming green eyes. “You just want me to feed you, you have no legitimate input into our financial security!” Louis stood from the bed and went to the kitchen with the intention of finding some wet food for Olivia. Louis opens the cabinet to find, unsurprisingly, the food stock is much lower than he remembered. He would need to add cat food to his shopping list as soon as his phone switched back on.

After shoveling a generous helping into Olivia’s dish, Louis heads back to his room. Just as he rights himself back on the bed his phone begins to vibrate madly. “Shit!” He exclaims jumping up from the pillows. Without checking the caller ID, Louis answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Lou! It’s Eliza, honey! How are you?” his aunt’s voice rings through the phone. Louis cursed himself silently, he had completely forgotten about his aunt’s monthly call.

“Oh hi Aunt Eliza! Um- well I’ve just gotten laid off so I’ve been better.” Louis attempts a weak laugh to try and lighten the weight that has once again set on his shoulders.

“What! Why would they let go of their best teacher? I’ve seen your plays, love, you’re a fantastic director and the kids adored you! Your boss must be mad- I’ll go down to that school myself and give them a piece of my mind.” Louis could imagine her knocking through Simon’s newest assistant, Louis was certain neither that assistant nor Simon himself would be able to withstand the forces of Hurricane Eliza.

“It’s alright, I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I had been looking for some better paying jobs around here but no one has been hiring for a good while now. I’m honestly not sure I can keep paying the rent on this place and the landlord has already given me so many extensions-” Louis places a hand over his mouth because if he keeps digging into how bad this layoff really is he’ll definitely vomit on his carpet. He certainly wouldn’t get his security deposit back after something like that.

“Have you got any friends nearby?” Eliza asks, her voice has taken on its usual motherly tone and Louis feels the edge melt away from his body.

“Usually I would say yes, but I’m not exactly on the best of terms with any of my friends at the moment. So- that would be a no.” Without thinking, Louis begins to bite away at his nails. “I don’t really have the space for a flatmate, Nick used to help me with the rent but it’s been tight lately.”

“Louis, darling, come live with us.” Eliza says, her tone letting Louis know that its already been decided. Before he can protest, Eliza continues, “We have a spare bedroom and Georgia and I love to have company. Besides, she’s been trying to convince me to get a cat for weeks now so maybe Olivia can calm her for a bit.”

“Aunt Eliza, I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Don’t you dare, Louis William Tomlinson. I will come to Doncaster and pack your flat myself if I have to. You’re young yet, love. Come live with us and take some time to get back on your feet.”

Louis contemplates the offer for a moment before beginning to nod his head. With hesitation, he finally speaks, “Alright- but it’s only temporary.”  

“Of course, love.” Eliza pauses and Louis can hear her take a shaky breath before continuing, “You know, Louis, we are so proud of you.”

“Eliza-” Louis tries to cut in but is quickly shushed by his aunt.

“No, hear me out this is important. Louis, we are so proud of you. I know this obviously isn’t ideal for you, but we’ll make the best of it. Surely, something good will come out of all this. I mean this is the part where I should spit out some iconic line about how fate is doing something to bring you to London.”

Louis laughs and rubs his forehead slowly easing the tension with his fingers. “Yeah if someone were writing my story they’re probably advancing my character development through this dialogue and sending me to London to provide me with a complex plotline I’ll have to inevitably unveil.”

“Well Louis, it’s nobody’s story to tell but your own.” Eliza responds and Louis puffs out a laugh.

“You’re right- I’ll call you tomorrow after I talk with my landlord.” Louis exchanges goodbyes with his aunt before hanging up the line.

Wandering into his kitchen, Louis set the kettle to boil and stares into his fridge hoping by some miracle a perfectly prepared meal will spring out of the depths. Unfortunately, thus are the trials of adulthood and Louis is forced to try and scrape together something that resembles dinner. Adult life had seemed like such an enigma when he was growing up. There was this notion in his head that the moment he was on his own it would be as if a manual was uploaded into his brain and he would just know how to deal with his life. Judging by his current state, recently dumped and getting ready to move in with his aunts, something told Louis there was a processing error with his manual.

Louis remembers every night he lying in his bed, back when it was his room and not his “childhood room”, and letting his thoughts run wild. He imagined being rejected from audition after audition but finally landing the main role in a big name show. He imagined Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber himself coming to meet Louis and congratulating him for the most convincing portrayal of his work he had seen yet. Sir Andrew would invite him to audition for his show on Broadway in America and of course Louis would decline at first.  _ Oh Sir Andrew, how very kind of you- but I just can’t imagine leaving my home! The soil of our great nation upon which I have grown can never be replaced. _ Practically begging Louis to work with him, Sir Andrew would slide an envelope across the table (in some very posh tea shop where they’ve gone to brunch every week) and Louis would be too polite to open it. However, being that he was only human Louis would sneak a peek at the sum. Suddenly, the proposition would seem a tad more intriguing. Before he would even know what was happening, Louis would be whisked off to America and his name would be in lights every night. “Julie Andrews Male-Counterpart!” “Angels Really Do Come From Over the Pond!”

Every night was just a little different from the last, sometimes it was Sir Elton John who would wander into a café where Louis happened to be doing an open mic. Sometimes Louis would be at a party and accidentally spill his drink on Freddie Mercury who would challenge him to a singing battle. Okay, yeah he realizes that one’s a bit out there. But nonetheless, Louis knew that someway, somehow he was going to make it big.

With his degree in Performing Arts burning a hole in his pocket, Louis bought his ticket to London right after graduation. Louis had thought of everything, every bag was packed and he had a flat ready to be moved into along with several mates of his from school. But Louis didn’t go. He couldn’t leave.

Louis is shaken out of his thoughts by a knocking at his door. Louis is confused for a moment, he’s 99.8% certain he hadn’t invited anyone over and the last time someone had shown up at his door unexpectedly things hadn’t gone so well for him. Trying to make as little noise as possible in case the person behind the door was someone he was trying to avoid, Louis tiptoes over to the door and peers through the peephole.  _ Fuck. _

“Louis, I know you’re in there. Open up.” Nick’s voice booms through the wood and Louis curses under his breath. He could be an adult, open the door and figure out what Nick wants and end this for good. On the other hand, he could ignore Nick and hold on to the falsely earned notion that he had won their breakup. How one would go about winning a breakup is beyond Louis but  _ that’s _ beyond the point. It’s at this moment, Olivia apparently decides she didn’t get enough attention from her dad and decides to launch herself onto his leg. And digs her claws into his thigh.  _ And holds on. _

“Dammit Liv!” Louis shouts and tries to detach the demonic attention-starved cat from his pants. Feeling himself lose his balance, Louis reaches out to grab hold to anything. One hand takes hold of the coat rack which immediately tumbles down. The other manages to pull on the door knob and swings the front door open. So that’s how Louis opens the door to his ex- lying under a pile of coats, still desperately trying to separate Olivia from his jeans. Louis squints into the sunlight now streaming through the doorway and sees the silhouette of Nick standing over him. He throws a shit-eating grin on his face, “Oh Nick? Lovely of you to stop by. What can I do for you?”

After detangling himself from the catastrophe at his front door, Louis frees Olivia and gives her the most loving toss he can manage into the flat and watches as she scampers off to hide under his bed.

“Hi, Louis. May I come in for just a moment?” Nick finally seems to learn how to speak again and Louis turns to face him.

“Hi, Nick. I would  _ really _ prefer that you didn’t come in actually.” Louis keeps the smile on his face and chants in his mind  _ Cheerful and Stupid, Cheerful and Stupid, Cheerful and Stupid.  _ The mantra, passed onto him from his mother, has definitely saved him from saying something that would prompt that blackening of one or both of his eyes.

“Right. Well then. I heard what happened with Headmaster Cowell and I just wanted to come by and check on you.” Nick grins and Louis is faintly reminded of the crocodile from Peter Pan. “I’m sorry it had to be you. But, surely you knew that department has been slowly heading towards its grave for a while now.”

Louis breathes in through his nose and nods. He brings a hand up to his face and rubs at the stubble that’s shaping itself quite nicely into a beard if he does say so himself. “It’s funny because I didn’t know that. Nor do I care to hear it from you. Now, is there anything of use that you came here for or should I go ahead and slam the door in your face now?”

Nick lifted an eyebrow and sized Louis up. He waited a moment before finally replying, “I want Olivia.”

Louis couldn’t help the shouts of laughter that came exploding out of his mouth. “You’re fucking with me right? Nick, c’mon you can’t be serious. You hated living with Olivia. First off, we were pretty sure you’re allergic to her.”

“Could’ve been hay fever.”

“For three months?” Louis countered. “Second off, I’ve been the only one feeding her since I got her. Yeah, let me remind you that I’m the one who paid for her and all of her stuff.”

“I got the bed.”

“Which she hates.” Louis wanted to feel bad for Nick. It was obvious that he didn’t actually want Olivia and there was some other motive for his random appearance at Louis’ doorstep. Considering the lengths Louis had gone to in order to make sure the break up was as fair as possible, he was slightly offended that Nick was crawling back after only a month to try and retrieve the thing he despised most about living with Louis. That wasn’t just an observation, Nick has said those exact words multiples of times.

“You know what I’m done trying to compromise with you Louis.” Nick huffed.

“See I thought you were done a month ago when you broke up with me. But alas, here I am looking at your ugly mug.”

“You don’t have to insult me. There was a time you thought I was handsome.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “And there was a time I thought you were a decent mate, I guess sometimes the devil hides in plain sight.” Louis let his eyes slide over Nick, “Or in cheap knock offs.”

“Fuck you, Louis. I’m done.” Nick turned and stomped to the stairs. Just as he appeared to try and turn around to get in the last word.

“Yeah tried that one, wasn’t a fan.” Louis interjects and slams the door before he has to hear one more word from Nick.

Louis waits a moment to ensure Nick isn’t storming down the hallway to break down Louis’ door and give him a piece of his mind. Not that Louis couldn’t take him, he’s quite strong. One time, he even did a pushup without crying, so he doesn’t want to hear it. He takes a deep breath to clear his head, he’s going to London. That’s decided whether he likes it or not- now he just needs to figure out how to get there.

*******

_ I know you love me- I know you care- Just shout wheneva and I’ll be there- _

Harry swings an arm out from under his duvet and searches for his phone. He manages to find it nestled under the newspaper he had picked up on his way home yesterday. He shuts off the alarm and groans. As he crawls out of the mess of blankets, he swears every joint in his body pops like bubble wrap. Shuffling into the kitchen, Harry begins to gather all of his necessities into his messenger bag. His sister, Gemma, had sent it to him recently citing the reason as “not being a real professor until he had a dorky bag”. Underneath Gemma’s poorly masked excuse, Harry got the feeling the gift had been out of pity at least in some part.

As Harry throws a slice of bread into the toaster and pulls some jam out of his fridge, he catches a glimpse of the coffee table in his living room and is hit with a wave of guilt. There, with the bright green background and white lettering, is the card Eliza had left behind. Harry pretends to ignore the sight as he pulls the  _ hot fucking goddam toast from the toaster oven.  _ He certainly does not burn his fingers on that goddamn piece of bread. Harry sticks his reddening finger in his mouth and winces. He pretends the heat radiating at the back of his head is coming from the vent and isn’t the non-existent eyes of the card.

In the moments before he leaves his flat, Harry runs to the coffee table and shoves the card into his wallet. He doesn’t need it and he won’t call. But at least it’ll stop sitting there as some kind of reminder of his fucked up life.


	4. I Need Some Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is I Need Some Sleep by The Eels

December

“Georgia! Will you get the door, please!” Louis can hear Eliza’s voice echoing through the flat moments after he finishes knocking. He chuckles as he hears the scatter of, what he presumes, are Georgia’s boots heading for the door. Sure enough, the door flies open and Louis is immediately drawn into a bone crushing hug by his aunt.

“Louis’ here! El! Get out here! It’s our favorite nephew!” She manages to crane her neck enough to yell into the flat while still causing Louis to question if he’ll ever be able to straighten out his back again. Over Georgia’s shoulder, Louis catches sight of Eliza heading towards them with a smile stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh Loubear! I’m so glad you made it safe!” She presses a kiss to his cheek and Louis feels the print of lipstick staining his skin. “Oh and here I see Olivia!” Eliza bends down to inspect the carrier crate Louis had gotten specifically for the trip. Usually he placed Olivia in a cardboard carrier he had brought her home in since all of her journeys out of the house were solely to the vet’s office around the block. However, for their pilgrimage to London, Louis had decided to splurge on a real carrier. With a strap Louis could sling around his shoulders, removable fleece bedding, and the brightest blue Louis had ever laid eyes on. Then Olivia and Louis were ready to board the train.

Olivia had been surprisingly fond of the carrier once Louis lined it with her favorite blanket and a catnip mouse for the journey. It wasn’t until they were on board and fully underway that Olivia decided to vomit like she had never done before. Without access to a bathroom or a way to remove the bedding without pissing Olivia off, Louis and his seatmates sat through a symphony of Olivia vomiting followed by cleaning up said vomit only to continue with a reprise of screeching as if she were being skinned alive.

“Yeah, you might not want to get too close Aunt El, she had quite the uhm… eventful journey here.” Louis rasps out once he’s released from Georgia’s grasp. Eliza moves the strap and catches sight of the inside of Olivia’s crate. Louis isn’t surprised to see her retch and stand back up.

“Right, well, we’re the rest of your stuff, Louis?” Georgia seems to be pretending not to notice her wife dragging the carrier by the strap to the kitchen.

Poorly disguising laughter behind some coughing, Louis answers, “Right, just down at the gate still. I got it from the car inside the buzzer but it’s going to be a couple trips up and down.”

Calling into the apartment to let Eliza know where they were headed, Louis and Georgia head down the stairs to begin gathering the assortment of boxes and bags Louis had left at the front gate. It’s refreshing, Louis thinks, to be able to physically move all the pieces of himself he had brought from Doncaster into this new beginning.

It only takes two trips up and down the stairs to get the majority of Louis’ stuff into the flat. Georgia volunteers to grab the last box so Louis can start setting up his room, but Louis refuses, saying they’ve already done so much for him. Before either woman can protest, Louis is scurrying out of the flat and down the stairs to grab the last, and largest, box.

Packed full of winter gear, the box isn’t heavy, but is tall enough that Louis can’t see over the edge. As he keeps his eyes trained on the ground, ensuring he doesn’t miss a step, Louis doesn’t hear the clomping of the stairs in front of him until it’s too late.

There’s a shout. There’s a crash. There’s a pile of winter coats on the landing. For the second time in a month, Louis finds himself underneath a pile of jackets staring up at a man. Not unlike the last time, this man looks angry. His brow is furrowed with a deep ridge intersecting his forehead. His intimidating forehead is topped with mess of brown hair cascading into curls that sweep over a pastel pink shirt dotted with what seem to be daisies. Louis barely has time to process his literal run in with the man with a jawline that could cut steel before a large hand is reaching for his shoulder and yanking him up by his jacket.

The man places Louis on his feet and gives him a once over before grunting and releasing his grip. Louis is stunned into silence. He can’t think of a single word to say to this beautiful, strong stranger.

“Oops.” The man grunts again and begins to shovel Louis’ clothes back into the box, that somehow managed to survive the fall. Louis knows he didn’t hit his head, but he may as well have for the level his brain is currently functioning at. He’s pulled out of his stuttering thoughts by the man shoving the box back into his arms. “Watch where you’re fucking going next time, mate.” With that, the man picks up his own coat he must have dropped in the kerfuffle and heads down the stairs again.

“Hi.” Louis calls out just as the man is disappearing from sight. “What the fuck.” He adds once he can no longer see the curls bouncing off the stranger’s shoulders.Louis stands on the landing for just a moment longer before taking the last few steps up to his aunt’s- his – floor. That’ll be weird to get used to.

Louis deposits the box in the spare room and wanders to the kitchen where he finds Eliza hunched over the counter slightly. As he gets closer he notices one of her arms appears to be wrapped around her middle. He reaches a hand out to her shoulder, fearing the worst. She could be sick, or worse- crying. Just as Louis makes contact Eliza turns around and he quickly lets out a breath and rolls his eyes. Eliza has Olivia clutched to her chest with one arm and is grasping the kettle with her other hand.

“I don’t know what you think is so funny about this.” She quickly reprimands him and attempts to swing the kettle at his shoulder. “Your cat wouldn’t stop crying until I picked her up so now I’m down an arm.”

“Of course, of course.” Louis smirked, “Just so we’re clear, it’s Georgia who wants the cat right?”

“Bugger off before I really go at ya with this.” She threatens and Louis scampers back to his bedroom to begin unpacking, the mysterious stranger already cleared from his mind.

It isn’t until he is sat down to dinner with his aunts that Louis is reminded of his earlier mishap. It had been years since Louis had had a sit down dinner with actual placemats and cutlery. Even if he had had the time to cook, most of his meals were on his own curled up in front of some random show. Meals with Nick had been the same, although they were usually preceded by some argument about which random program was to be put on. Having a family dinner like this is certainly something Louis could get used to, however. He and Eliza had set the table while Georgia spoke gently to the soup she had thrown together. At one point, Louis swore he could hear her singing into the pot but that was neither here nor there.

Taking a seat on one of the wooden chairs surrounding the dining table, Louis winces and jumps up slightly. Muttering to himself he tries to remember why there appears to be a bruise forming on his ass.

“Louis? Everything okay?” Louis lets the waistband of his joggers snap back from where he had stretched the material to inspect his skin.

“Uh… yeah, yeah all good. Just remembering that I took a spill earlier is all.” Louis watches as both of his aunts perk up immediately and begin lodging questions at him. Putting his hands up in defense while settling into his chair, Louis attempts to rely his story. “I was coming up the stairs with that last box, I guess it was so big I couldn’t quite see over the top of it, yeah? So I was almost at the top of the stairs and some bloke comes barreling into me and knocked me on my arse. Luckily, I was only on the first step from the landing so it wasn’t a far fall but definitely knocked the wind out of me.”

“Who was it though?” Georgia pries, as she ladled her creation into each of their bowls.

“I don’t know, he kind of ran off afterwards- barely said a word to me. Bit of a tosser.” Louis shrugs and takes his bowl from Georgia.

“What did he look like? Georgia and I have met most of the people round here.”

“Well, he had this like long brown hair and it was curly. He was wearing a pink shirt… that’s all I really remember though.” Louis recalls. Georgia and Eliza appear confused for a moment before exchanging a glance and falling oddly silent. Louis is sure they know something but figures if it were  _ that _ important they would tell him. On the other hand, Louis can’t stand to be left out of anything and quickly tries to interrogate his aunts.

“Oh nothing. Sounds a bit like our friend but he certainly wouldn’t run off like that so it mustn’t be him.” Eliza waves him off and begins to eat her soup. Louis shrugs and follows suit, he would find out soon enough he supposes.

“Oh hey, I was thinking earlier, do either of you know of any places that are hiring nearby?” Louis looks up at his aunts who once again have their eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Lou, you just got here. Don’t you want to settle in a bit?” Eliza speaks cautiously, an unusual tone for her to take. But Louis supposes she knows how headstrong Tomlinson’s tend to be and that her suggestion may as well be given to a brick wall once Louis gets an idea in his head. “Besides, you’re living here rent free, so you certainly don’t need to earn money to pay for us.”

“Which I never fully agreed to I’ll remind you, but on a different note I’ve been unemployed for nearly a month and I’m honestly about to lose my mind. I need something to do every day or you’ll find me talking to Olivia… and only Olivia.” Louis sighs and shakes his head for dramatic effect, “I’ve been there before, dark times I’ll tell ya.”

Georgia, in what Louis supposes is an attempt to change the subject, pipes in, “Oh Lou, there are some great shops out by the University. I swear nearly every time I go out there, there are hiring signs in at least five windows.”

Louis nods and contemplates for a moment before responding. On the one hand, getting a part time job isn’t ideal- he wouldn’t get paid nearly as much most likely and he would end up being a shift worker again. On the other, he wasn’t planning on staying with his aunts for longer than necessary, so getting a full-time job wasn’t exactly on par with his plans to get back to Doncaster. So for now, Louis smiles and nods while his aunts began debating which shop had the best owners which lead to a lengthy discussion of the power imbalance between employer and employees during which Louis got into a lengthy rant about his former asshat of a boss. Being on his own for the past few months had given Louis the chance to talk with himself a lot, but there was something to be said about having another face to scoff at the absurdity of 5 AM staff meetings. Olivia rarely had the manners to properly vent about his shitty job with him.

For the first time in a month, Louis wakes up to the sound of his alarm blaring in his ear. Olivia lifts her head to stare at him from the foot of his bed and for a moment Louis is disoriented. Rather than his usual blue tinted walls surrounding him, a salmon paint job stares back at him. The flowing curtains next to his bed are certainly not the blinds his landlord hastily installed after Louis pestered for months and the duvet Olivia is currently shedding on is nicer than anything he’s owned in the past several years. Blinking and staring at Olivia in hopes of answers it all comes rushing back to Louis when he spies the boxes lining the corners of the room.

Louis looks back to Olivia who has yet to break her staring contest with his face, “What’re you looking at, huh?” Louis challenges. Louis rifles through the drawers trying to remember where he put everything away, finally scavenging some jeans and a band t-shirt before venturing into the kitchen.

Eliza looks up from her newspaper and smiles as she sees Louis approaching. “Good morning, love. Georgia is putting on the kettle, want a cuppa?”

Louis presses a kiss to her forehead, “No thanks, I’m about to head out to look for those for hire signs. I’ll grab something while I’m out. I fed Olivia but she might beg to differ.” Louis shoves his feet into his vans and grabs his jacket as he heads out the door, “Don’t believe a word she tells you, she’s a filthy liar that one.” Before closing the door, sure enough he sees Olivia circling Eliza’s feet with eyes glistening.

Jobs had never been a hard thing for Louis to come by. He had worked since the moment he reached the age to get a worker’s permit. Growing up, his mother had made ends meet supporting him and his sisters on her wage; she had insisted that he wait until he was older to put the pressures of the workforce on himself. He couldn’t help it, if he could pull just a shift or two a week and help keep the pantry stocked and possibly get the girls a new uniform as soon as they needed it, he didn’t see any reason not to work.

Even during his Uni years, Louis couldn’t hold back from making sure he had a paycheck coming in every other week. Between odd jobs and managing to snag a position as an RA for his University, Louis paid off his tuition every year and managed to build up a good sized savings fund. There was enough in that fund to support his entire move to London, but obviously that plan fell through and the funds went elsewhere as he took over helping his sisters until they could go to Uni themselves. Once they were all off to their respective cities, Louis didn’t have much reason to stay in Doncaster. Yet, he found himself unable to leave. It was bittersweet, being caught in the place that felt like such an essential part of who he was but also was the background of the worst moments of his life. There were moments when Louis was really certain that he was going to finally pick up and leave, but then he met Nick and that was nice. They adopted Olivia and that was nice. He had his job and that was nice. So eventually, Louis thought that Doncaster would be nice again too.

_ Wishful thinking. _ Louis thought as he got off the tube near the university shops Georgia had mentioned the night before.  _ First things first, breakfast. _ Once he got above ground, Louis was bombarded by crowds of people. Students rushing off with bags clutched to their sides and families strolling about. The street was lined with a number of small storefronts, each displaying some form of holiday scene. In all the haze of moving, Louis had nearly forgotten that the holidays were coming around. Anxiety began to swirl in his stomach as he thought of all the planning this year would take. Would the aunts be alright with hosting all of the girls? Would he have to find a place to house everyone? How would Olivia handle the tight space? Can the girls afford to travel to London instead of Doncaster? When was the last time he spoke to his sisters properly? Had he remembered to tell them he had moved to London? Maybe he should just fucking cancel Christmas this year.

The swirling picked up speed in his stomach until it was a tight ache in his side. Louis feels his heart rate pick up and begin rabbiting in his chest.  _ What was he thinking. Why the fuck is he London this was a bad idea.  _ Spotting a bench on the opposite side of the street Louis quickly made his way over and planted himself to the spot. Keeping his feet firmly secure on the floor, Louis begins to breathe slowly. He counts his breaths and closes his eyes until the ache that had started to spread from his abdomen begins to subside. Louis takes another breath and lets his shoulders drop before opening his eyes.

“Fuck mate, don’t throw up on me.” Louis leaps up from the bench, he fucking swore that bench was empty when he sat down. But now as he takes notice of his surroundings there are actually two men mere inches to the right from where he had just been sitting. “Shit, you’re fucking  _ pale _ and that’s coming from me.” The man who scared the living  _ shit _ out of him continues. Louis knows three facts right away. This man is Irish. This man is named Shawn according to the nametag pinned to his shirt. This man is  _ rude. _

“Go easy on him, he might be sick or something.” The brunette man to the right of Shawn elbows him as he berates him. The brunette man looks up at Louis, “We work at the café right around the corner. Do you want a tea or anything? On us?”

Louis rakes his eyes over these strangers, the brunette seems to mean well enough. Both of them have black aprons draped over the front of their clothing and nametags, so the café thing probably checks out. He was on the hunt for breakfast anyways, who is he to turn down a free tea. Well he had this morning, but this is different.

Louis reaches his hand out to the brunette, the blonde is grumbling and typing away on his phone, “I’m Louis.” The brunette shifts to take his hand and Louis can just barely make out the name that had been covered by the man’s jacket. “Nice to meet you… Niall?” The man looks at him confusedly for a moment before realization dawns over his features. Crinkles appear next to his eyes as his smile grows even wider.

“Oh no! I’m not Niall,” The man gestures to the blonde Irish man next to him who has perked up suddenly, “This is Niall. I’m Shawn.” Louis’ brows drew together and he tilts his head to the side in confusion.

Niall nods and looks up at Louis, “Drives our mate Liam up the fucking wall. You’ll meet him when we go to the shop.” Without saying anything more Niall stands and drags Shawn up off the bench with him as Shawn tries to gather the jackets piled around him. “C’mon then, it’s like two feet from here.”

Louis has a lot of questions but Niall doesn’t give him the chance to say anything before they are heading down the street and stopping in front of a glass storefront. A wooden sign hangs over the large, also wooden, doors that says  _ Familiar Faces _ . Louis doesn’t get the chance to take in much more before Niall leads him in with Shawn tagging close behind. The shop is cozy; it reminds Louis of a log cabin from a Christmas movie combined with an open concept design from HGTV. Wood seems to be the overarching theme, as it covers the wall and a majority of the furniture seems to be composed of varying types. However, the art hanging on the walls and general layout of the space seem to be something straight out of an episode of Queer Eye.

After scoping out the place, Louis turns just in time to see Niall quite literally leap over the counter and begin messing various gadgets. Muffled yelling comes from behind a closed door behind the counter and out storms yet another man in an apron. This man catches Louis a little off guard as he looks significantly different from Niall and Shawn. He’s quite muscular and toned from what Louis can see under his fitted shirt. Streaks of flour decorate the front of his apron as well as the edges of his forehead, the flour appears to have snuck up into his buzzed hair as well.

“Niall! I swear to god, you’re gonna hurt yourself or someone else if you keep doing that! Or worse you could  _ break something.”  _ The man snatches a rag from the countertop and attempts to smack Niall with it. But Niall scampers out of the way just in time to miss the snap of the cloth.

“Oi! Hit me with another fucking rag today and I’m going home!” Niall pouts and disappears into the backroom. Shawn, who had been waiting to get behind the counter until Niall cleared out, appears unfazed by the interaction and catches Louis’ attention.

“What d’ya want?” Louis laughs and relays his order to Shawn, who begins bustling around immediately getting everything together. “Oh, Louis? This is Liam, he owns this place with Niall.” Shawn gestures to buzz cut man, who has grabbed a broom and begun to sweep behind the register.

Liam has such a focused expression on his face Louis is almost afraid to interrupt. Until Liam looks up and the biggest grin cuts across his features. “Hello, mate! Louis is it?”

Louis nods and goes to sit at the bar side of the counter where Shawn has placed his tea. “Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you too.”

****

There were moments that Harry was so angry that he couldn’t breathe. His entire being was a dry forest waiting for a spark to set everything ablaze. Sometimes it was nothing at all that sent Harry spiraling and locking the door to his office. Because locked doors and lights off meant the world stopped. If Harry could shut everything out for long enough, then maybe everything would stop existing. One morning, Harry’s toaster hadn’t worked properly and had caused one side of the bread to be entirely black. That was all it had taken for Harry to fly into a fit of rage. He barely registers knocking some stranger down a couple stairs and until he’s on the tube heading to work.

Harry had been seeing Tyler for a month. He had never been to therapy before and as far as he knew no one that he knew did either. He had held out for about a week after Eliza stopped by before pulling the card out of his wallet and deciding that it couldn’t hurt.

The first time had been a disaster. He hadn’t lasted more than a moment before bursting into gut wrenching sobs. The office was small and the windows were high enough that he could only see the sky when he tried to avoid Tyler’s gaze. She was really actually very nice. She reminded Harry of his mum just a bit, but she was still young enough that speaking with her didn’t feel like he was in therapy. It felt like talking with a friend who only had an interest in you and never expected anything more. To be perfectly honest, Harry was tired of being lonely. He hung out with Liam and Niall often enough and he saw his students on a regular basis. But other than that, Harry wasn’t really talking to anyone. He hadn’t told his mum about what was happening. He didn’t think it was necessary and Gemma was so busy with her own growing family, there wasn’t room in her life to try and pick up Harry’s broken parts. So Harry talked to Tyler. Tyler listens. And Harry thinks maybe he can be okay.

Tyler had suggested Harry start keeping a journal. A place where he could jot down some of his thoughts, maybe write letters, or whatever else he felt needed to be let out. That afternoon, Harry went out and bought the first journal that caught his eye.  Once Harry began to write, it was like an addiction. Sometimes it was poems, sometimes it was just a single word bouncing around his head that he wrote over and over on a page until his pen tore through the paper and spilled on to the next clean space. Those moments felt like a resemblance of his life at this point. No matter how hard he tried to push Michael out of his mind, it was rare to have a day without remembering.

Harry sits in his living room one night and lets the floodgates open. He lets his fingers etch every word of hatred and every thought of love into his journal. He fills three pages with his thoughts. It’s hard and it hurts and sometimes a sentence rips out of his so hard and fast that he physically groans as his pen scratches across the page.

He sits back and looks at the nearly intelligible words scattered over the white landscape. It’s not fixed and nothing is really okay again, but a part of Harry settles. Deep in his chest, it feels like a fragment of himself was taped back up on the wall with enough tape to keep it there, but not enough to hold forever.

When he was younger, Harry always counted down the minutes until the end of school. He couldn’t wait for the freedom of days without being hounded by his teachers.

For the first time, Harry was dreading the upcoming winter break. He had managed to keep himself busy grading papers and planning lectures that he didn’t have to think much about his life. The holiday break would force him to sit at home and stare at the wall and try not to think about anything all that much.

This is what Harry is thinking about as he rides the tube to work this morning. That and the fact that he should definitely wash the jacket he’s wearing, at some point he must have managed to pour something on himself because no matter how much he rubs at the spot. It’s not appearing to come out. Harry frowns at his jacket, he certainly doesn’t remember drinking anything green and unfortunately the sickly color stands out fairly prominently against the beige of the fabric.  _ This might as well happen,  _ he thinks as he exits the train and begins to walk towards Familiar Faces. As he approaches he sees a literal familiar face loitering out front of the shop.

Speeding up his gait, Harry calls out, “Hey Li, what are you doing out here? It’s proper freezing.”

Liam looks up from the sidewalk he was pacing over and removes the hand that he had been incessantly running through his short hair. “Oh, hey Harry. How’re you?”

As Harry reaches Liam he lets out a steady breath, “Getting through, I guess.” He lets out a few laughs afterwards he hopes are convincing. Liam gives him a strange look before sighing.

“I feel that, man. If I had hair, I’d be pulling it out right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Harry looks into the store through the window, expecting to see Niall and Shawn dancing around a bonfire behind the counter. Instead he sees Niall laughing at something Harry can’t quite see behind a large silver coffee contraption.

“Niall convinced me to hire some kid off the street over the weekend.”

“Oh, okay?”

“I just… whatever I’m just getting worked up.” Liam straightens his body and shakes his shoulders in a very  _ Shake It Off _ -esque movement. “Let’s get your usual- don’t wanna be late for class.” Liam smiles and Harry nods, just as he’s about to follow Liam in he feels his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket.

“I’ll follow you in a sec, Li. Let me get this real quick.” Harry pulls out his phone. The second he catches sight of the screen Harry’s stomach drops into his boots and it takes all his willpower not to vomit on the doorstep. If he were smart, he would hit decline and get on with his life. In this moment, Harry isn’t smart. With shaking hands, Harry answers and lifts the phone to his face. “Hello?” He manages to choke out rather than the flood of curses dancing on the tip of his tongue.

“Hey.” Something rushed through Harry after hearing that voice for the first time in months. It might’ve been sadness, there was a chance it was shock- the only thing that mattered was that Harry’s legs suddenly felt like giving out. Harry lets himself slide down the wall next to the door and perch in a squat over the sidewalk.

Harry pulls in a steadying icy breath and clutches his jacket closer to his chest. “What do you want, Michael?”

“I miss you and I just, I don’t know maybe it’s stupid. I just needed to hear your voice again. It’s been so long, Harry.”

There were two paths lying in front of Harry. He could admit to Michael that he missed him too, he could let himself fall back into where he was comfortable. That path was clear the plants hacked away from the trail for as far as Harry could see. The other path asked him to refuse to give any part of himself back to Michael. In his mind’s eye, Harry stood at the fork and contemplated for just a moment before leaping one way.

“What do you want.” Harry repeats, there was no question in Harry’s voice anymore, portraying a strength Harry didn’t know he had.

“Oh. I- um. I got served today.” Harry nods. His lawyer had notified him that Michael had been dodging the man who was trying to serve his divorce papers.

Harry stays curt, “Okay.”

Michael huffed, clearly not having received the response he wanted. “Harry, is this really necessary? You can’t just decide we’re getting a divorce. We need to talk about it.”

Harry laughs with no emotion, “There’s not really anything to talk about. I don’t want to be married to you anymore. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Well, I don’t quite want to have a divorce under my belt before I’m 25.”

Harry bites his tongue and feels flames of anger licking at his insides, somehow, he manages to keep his voice fairly calm, “Don’t you dare put the blame on me. Don’t call me again unless you have something of use to say.” Harry slams his finger at the red button on his screen. He gives himself just a moment to compose himself before he stands. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes to stop the wetness that was starting to gather. Finally entering the shop, he doesn’t see Liam… or Niall… or Shawn anywhere. It wasn’t really a big deal but Harry kind of needed to hear Niall laugh or for Liam to sneak a muffin into his bag. They always seemed to know when Harry was off.

Harry was confused for a second before he was distracted by a man appearing from nowhere. “Hi! Welcome to Familiar Faces! What can I get started for ya?” Harry avoided looking at him and instead trained his gaze at the menu blinking to keep tears from spilling over.

“Um… can I just… uh…” Harry was here every morning; he didn’t have to order anymore. Niall and Liam knew what he got and had taught Shawn to expect him. The pressure of remembering exactly how to order what he liked combined with the adrenaline still pumping in his veins from the phone call had wiped his mind completely blank.

“It’s alright, mate-not like this is graded.”

Harry knows the cashier means well but something about his tone is too light for Harry and it irks him. Without thinking, he whips his head down and stares into the blue eyes of the stranger with the ferocity of a man scorned.

“Fucking smartass.” Harry snaps out. A harsh blush begins to rise in the face of the man and Harry watches as he opens and shuts his mouth without saying anything. Guilt churns in Harry’s chest, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on this complete stranger. Harry sighs and starts rambling out an apology, “Listen, mate. I didn’t mean-”

“What can I get started for you today?” The cashier looks at Harry with a stony expression, his features set in perpetual customer service mode. A silent moment sits between them as Harry’s mind races.

“Um… yeah…just a tea please.” The cashier nods and spins around to begin the drink. As he turns, Harry finally notices his name tag.  _ Louis _ . Harry shook his head and walked to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. After a few moments, Harry has a cup of hot water with a tea bag thrown in shoved at him. He says a quiet  _ thanks _ and practically runs out of the shop. He pretends not to hear Niall calling out to him as he wills he feet to move faster. It’s not until Harry is in his office settling in to grade the last few quizzes before lecture that he looks at the cup he’s holding, scribbled on the side in black sharpie reads  _ T for the asshole who pushed me down the stairs. _

Harry is confused for all of a minute before everything comes rushing back. Running out of his flat, knowing he was about to miss the next bus and subsequently being late to his appointment with Tyler. He hadn’t even seen the guy coming up the stairs until he felt his shoulder colliding with the cardboard. Next thing he knew he was standing over pile of jackets. He had hastily reached out to pull the man to his feet. He had meant to apologize profusely, he knew he was a bit pigeon-toed and certainly didn’t want anyone else to suffer because of it. As he had steadied the stranger on his feet, he caught a glimpse of his watch- he was  _ definitely _ about to miss that bus. He tried to help the guy by picking up the mess and giving it back to him, but he couldn’t stand around any longer. In his haste, he tried to come up with something to say and instead, “Watch where you’re going next time, mate” popped out without his permission. Mortified, Harry had run down the stairs.

Harry drops his head into his hands and groans. He’s never had an enemy as far as he knows and now there’s a stranger floating around London who he has not only practically yelled at for no reason, but also managed to push down the stairs. Can he do nothing right these days? Harry tries to focus on the assignments in front of him, he definitely had to get these back to his students. He grips his pen tighter and reads the same sentence over and over trying to find some meaning in the words in front of him. There are too many feelings swishing in his stomach. It was like the feeling Harry would get when he would drink water on an empty stomach, every movement threw the emotions around his insides and felt like confusion. Harry grabs his phone and types out a quick email to Tyler asking for a last minute appointment this afternoon. He feels a bit more settled having done so and is able to get through grading the quizzes before a response pops up on his screen.

After he finishes his final lecture for the day, Harry rushes to lock his office and jump on the tube. Before long he finds himself perched in the waiting room of Tyler’s office watching the clock tick away the minutes. A click to his left causes him to turn and look in time to see Tyler standing in the doorway and waving him back to her office.

“Hey Harry, how are you today?” Harry chuckles and runs his hand through his hair.

He twists a curl around his finger, “Not so great today.”

Tyler gives him a sympathetic smile and settles into her chair in front of him, “What’s going on? I’m glad you reached out to meet with me.” Harry smiles and feels just a little proud of himself. It doesn’t take much for the tale of the terrible, awful, no good, very bad day to come tumbling out.

Tyler nods as Harry’s narrative comes to a close. “Sounds like today really sucked.”

Harry nods and wipes the tears gathering in his eyes, “I’m just tired of being sad. It’s getting old, ya know? I just want to have one goddam good day is that too much to ask?”

“When was the last time you saw Georgia or Eliza?”

Harry’s brows pull together and he gazes out the window trying to remember the last time he had seen either of his neighbors. “I suppose… a few days after Eliza gave me your card. I went over and Georgia and I had tea while we watched a movie, I can’t remember what it was though-  _ Love, Actually _ ?  _ The Notebook _ ? - Oh well, doesn’t really matter I suppose.”

“Why not go over tonight? You’ve mentioned how being around Liam and Niall helps your mood, but maybe instead of going out, you might like staying in with someone?”

“I don’t want to impose on them though. My problems aren’t their burden to carry, I don’t want to ask them to like pick up my pieces for me.”

“It’s not weak to lean on the people in your life. You don’t even have to ask for help, didn’t you use to bring things you baked to them unannounced? Why not show up with some wine tonight?” Tyler seems to sense Harry’s hesitation and prompts him once again. “What’s the worst scenario?”

“They smash the wine over my head, tell me to never come back, and find a way to get me kicked out of my flat.” Harry couldn’t stop himself from giggling once he says it out loud. He makes a mental note to pick up some of the fruity wine Georgia always complimented on his way back home.

****

“Louis? You can go home; your shift is over.” Liam popped out from the door to the kitchen just as Louis was leaning down to try and pop his back. Working the register for eight hours and making seemingly endless cups of fancy drinks was certainly much more work than he had imagined.

Louis pauses mid hunch and twist to gaze up at Liam, “Master has given Dobby the gift of freedom.” He croaks out and begins to hobble towards Liam with his arms outstretched. Liam rolls his eyes and slams the door shut before Louis can get to him. Giggling and straightening up, Louis shoots a wink at Niall who is cackling from his perch on the counter.

Niall leaps off the counter and slaps a hand to Louis’ shoulder, “Mate, he’s going to throw that espresso machine at ya.”

“Worth it.”

Louis hangs his apron and nametag on the hook inside the kitchen and gathers his bag from the cubbies Niall claims to have built himself, Liam says otherwise but that’s beside the point. Just as he’s about to leave, Louis catches sight of Liam struggle to open the industrial fridge with a box of milk balanced precariously on his hip. He quickly strides over to the fridge and holds it open as Liam thanks him and goes to set the box inside. Louis resists the urge to close the door on Liam, maybe another day.

Instead when Liam comes out Louis grabs his bicep and stops him, “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you.” Liam looks confused for a minute, squinting and looking for some sign of  sarcasm in Louis’ eyes. “I’m being serious, I know I’ve been messing with you lately but really I can’t thank and Niall enough for giving me the chance to work here.”

“Of course mate, you’ve been a great addition to the crew.” Liam’s voice is still a bit hesitant. “I mean with Shawn needing to cut his hours back to work on writing, you kind of came at the exact right time.”

Louis reaches his arm around Liam’s shoulders and pulls him into a hug. Liam tenses under his grasp immediately but as Louis holds on he relaxes. “Either way, thanks for taking a chance on me.” Louis really did mean it, there had been no reason for Liam and Niall to offhandedly offer him the barista job. He had no experience making coffee and didn’t even have a resume with him when he had mentioned being on the search for a job. It felt like divine intervention, that Louis had happened to walk up on Niall and Shawn on the bench that day.

Liam tightens his grasp in response and the two stand in front of the door in a hug until Louis finally relaxes his arms and takes a step back. He gives Liam a smile and a pat on the back before he grabs his stuff and heads to the tube. As he feels the rumble of the tracks underneath his feet, Louis contemplates his recent luck. His aunts had been incredibly accommodating easily finding the balance between being doting on him and allowing him his space as an adult. Within the first few days of moving to London he had managed to find the job and become fast friends with Niall, Liam, and Shawn. He had even managed to get all his sisters on a conference call and explained that he was living in London for the time being and that Eliza and Georgia were more than willing to host Christmas this year. The girls hadn’t made a big deal of his move at all which erased a lot of the guilt he had been feeling about making such a rash decision. So far, the only inconvenience he was experiencing was that curly-haired boy who apparently hated him, despite having only met Louis twice. He hadn’t had many expectations for this next chapter of his life but he could admit that having a steady job with bosses he didn’t despise and a house full of good people to come to in addition to his cat made his shoulders drop just a bit of the tension he had been carrying for the past several years. Part of him was itching to spill to Georgia and Eliza about the oddity of running into this man twice and having terrible experiences both times.

When Louis gets back to the flat, the first thing he notices is the absence of noise. He had grown accustomed to a constant dull roar in the air between Georgia’s recipes, Eliza’s work, Olivia’s songs, and various other contributors he couldn’t quite pin down. Yet, as he took off his shoes and hung up his bag he couldn’t make out a single peep coming from anywhere. He pads into the back room and peeks into each room searching for his aunts. Olivia lifts her head and yawns at him as he glances in his room. He blows her a kiss and walks forward to scoop her into his arms. She reaches her paws up to his chest and begins to knead his shirt as he takes her to the living room. Louis manages to maneuver a blanket around the two of them as he curls up on the couch and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

_ Hey, just got home- where r you guys? _

Eliza :) : _ Will call in a moment, on the bus right now. _

Geo :) _ : i want 2 c Oli!!! _

Louis giggles and angles his phone to snap a quick photo of Olivia curled against his chest and slowly drifting to sleep again. He sends it in the chat and gets an immediate response from Georgia ( _ TELL HER I MISS HER!!!!)  _ He likes the message and presses a kiss to Olivia’s forehead. “That’s from Georgia,” He whispers into her fur.

Louis has just settled his attention into an episode of  _ Bake Off _ when his phone starts to vibrate on the arm of the sofa. Pausing the show, he answers the call. “’ello?”

“Hi dear!” Eliza’s voice sounds tinny through the phone and noise in the background nearly drowns out her voice. “We just got to Bristol.” Louis ticks his head to the side, he doesn’t remember either of them mentioning a trip to Bristol anytime soon.

“What? Bristol? Why?”

“Oh yeah, this was very last minute. Georgia’s friend had a family emergency and needed someone to watch her kids and there was no one available so she called us earlier,” Eliza pauses to say something unintelligible to Georgia, Louis presumes. “Anyways, I happened to get off work early and Georgia doesn’t work Tuesdays so she was free. So we’ll be here for the rest of the day and possibly a bit of tomorrow depending.”

Louis twists the blanket between his fingers absentmindedly, “Oh, alright. Well I’ll see you guys tomorrow hopefully. Let me know if there’s anything you need me to do here and travel safe.” They exchange goodbyes and Louis sighs after hanging up.

He had been at the shop all day and the day was inching closer to dinnertime. Considering he didn’t exactly want to burn down his aunts’ flat while they were off being extraordinary friends he rules out cooking almost immediately. It’s at times like this pizza truly is his best friend. With the practiced skill of a regular customer, he’s about to place the order for his regular double cheese, ham, pepperoni, and jalapenos but something makes him pause. Georgia had been on his case lately about the lack of vegetables in his diet. Something about vitamin deficiencies and scurvy. Louis rolls his eyes and orders mushroom, green peppers, and bacon to balance it out. Curling back into his blanket and starting  _ Bake Off _ again, he settles in to wait for the pizza to arrive, confident his aunts would be incredibly proud of his strength in the face of vegetables.

He must have drifted off to the calming music coming from the television set because suddenly there’s a knocking at the door. It’s not urgent but the noise is certainly loud enough to startle Olivia from her nest between the blanket and his arms. He grunts and heaves himself off the couch.  _ Don’t they usually have to get buzzed up? _ He wonders as he grabs his wallet and stretches his arms over his head.

Louis has a routine down at this point, there were many nights neither him or Nick would have the skill or ability to cook anything and Louis would be in charge of ordering various take out. Louis begins the charade of opening and holding the door with one foot but most of his body blocking the door to keep Olivia from scampering out. Not that she ever would, but he wouldn’t ever be able to live with himself if something happened to her. Louis is sorting through the bills in his wallet to make sure he has enough for a good tip when the delivery man clears his throat and Louis finally looks up.

“What the  _ fuck _ .” Louis barely has time to register what’s happening before the curly haired, mean, awful, bully-stranger begins to back away with a bottle of wine grasped in one hand and a bag slung over his shoulder.

The man looks even more shell-shocked than Louis which is saying something considering Louis was genuinely emotionally prepared to receive a pizza in that moment. “I’m so sorry. Oh my god. Where are Georgia and Eliza?”

“They’re not here right now. Can I help you? Need a reason to yell at me again? Maybe we can go over to those stairs and you can give me a good shove? Better yet! Just throw me off the balcony while you’re at it!”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Louis cuts him off, he just doesn’t have it in him today to listen to poorly constructed excuses. “You’re not the pizza man and that’s the only person I want to see tonight. I don’t know why you’re here or how you know my aunts but I’m going to need you to take about ten steps back and let me get back to my evening.” Louis steps back into the foyer getting ready to close the door until he makes the mistake of glancing up one more time. The stranger hasn’t moved from where he landed after Louis noticed him, but Louis can see his green eyes beginning to swim. The apples of his cheeks are slowly getting splotchy and he’s tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth. It’s so similar to the expressions he saw on his sister’s faces all too often over the past few years. Something hard inside him softens just enough for him to pull the door open again and the words leave his mouth without thought, “Want to come in?”

The man’s face brightens for just a moment, hope flashing through his eyes before he pulls his bottom lip back between his teeth hesitantly. “Would that be alright? I don’t want to um intrude?”

Louis shakes his head and holds the door open wider to allow him inside. He puts a hand to the man’s chest as he crosses the threshold. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.”

“Okay, Harold come right in.”

“It’s just Harry.”

“Excuse me, would you like something to drink Just Harry?” Louis smirks and takes the wine from Harry’s grasp and into the kitchen with him. The bottle is cool against his hand and he peeks out into the foyer where he left Harry. “Want to crack into this then?”

Louis doesn’t know exactly when the shift happened, but he feels an incessant urge to take care of this Harry guy. He knows his aunts although that doesn’t mean much, between the two of them Eliza and Georgia knew all of England it seemed. Louis had loved visiting his Eliza with his mum as he was growing up. She was always full of amazing stories and she made his mum so happy. Louis shakes his head and trains his vision back on Harry, no room for two pity parties tonight.

“Harold?” Louis says again garnering Harry’s attention. Harry whips his head around to look at Louis from where he had been staring at the floor. Harry makes a sound of acknowledgment and looks expectantly at Louis. Louis grins and holds up the bottle of wine. “Want to take a crack at this bad boy?”

The corners of Harry’s mouth lift slightly and he hurries to deposit his boots at the front door. After carefully arranging what appear to be the oldest pair of boots Louis has seen in his entire life, Harry strolls into the kitchen with the bag still slung over his shoulder.

Now that the initial shock has worn off, Louis can start to admire Harry. Those curly locks he noticed the first time they had met were even more impressive up close, dancing down below his shoulders and curling around the frame of his face. He was a few inches taller than Louis, but not really enough to be considered in Louis’ opinion. He had an effeminate quality about him that balanced nicely with a hint of masculinity that Louis couldn’t quite describe. It sounds silly to him now, but Harry just radiated a calming aura despite the guarded posture he held.

Harry begins to slip the bag off and pauses halfway through the action, “I made dinner and I had too much. D’you want any?”

If there were an assassination attempt made against Louis, he would be a goner in seconds as long as they sent this Harry fellow. Louis would eat this man’s arsenic chicken and thank him for it afterwards. How is it Louis’ fault? He’s very gay and Harry is objectively attractive. Louis is pretty sure anyone who laid eyes on Harry for more than a moment or so would have similar sentiments regardless of orientation.

“Yeah, sure lad. What did you make?” Louis peers into the bag that Harry gently set on the countertop as he searches through a drawer for a corkscrew.

“It’s a roasted winter vegetable medley with pasta and pesto. I also brought bread I made.” Harry looks proud of himself, almost smug as he pulls Tupperware containers full of green vegetables and pasta out of the bag. He turns to the cabinet and pulls out two plates. He freezes as he turns around and catches Louis’ eye, who’s sure the look on his face is that of complete confusion. “I used to be over here a lot. Um, I live in the flat right next door. Maybe I should have mentioned that.” Harry whispers the last part to himself as he sets the plates on the counter. A tuft of hair comes out from behind his ear and Louis has to stop himself from reaching out and tucking it back into place.

“Oh yeah that makes more sense.” Louis laughs and hands Harry a serving spoon, still giving him a bit of an odd stare. Behind the curtain of hair, Louis spies a the steady blush on Harry’s cheeks.

The two boys work in silence to continue preparing their dinner. Louis barely knows Harry and yet their efforts join seamlessly as Harry uncorks the wine, Louis’ grabbing glasses. While Harry plates the pasta and vegetables, Louis cuts the bread into thick slices. Louis can’t remember the last time he truly prepared a meal with someone. He didn’t actually have to do any of the cooking, but the plating and preparation part was often his favorite. Putting all the parts together and sitting down with anticipation. After his mum was done cooking, he and Lottie, the oldest of his younger sisters, were in charge of getting all the food to the table and making sure all the littles had vegetables and reasonable portions. Being the oldest sibling, Louis had the caregiving role instilled in him from a young age. Sure, he had moments he resented being the one to help his mum rather than training all his focus on video games or football; but, having all of his sisters know they could come to him with anything and everything and the comfort they found in each other was irreplaceable. As he got older, that caretaking translated to his role of the ‘mom’ friend. Always conscious of how much his friends were drinking, he never let himself be any worse off than them; someone has to hold back hair and call rides and set out paracetamol and Gatorade and take off shoes and set everyone up on their couches.

“Louis, are you ready?” Harry looked at Louis expectantly with his wine glass in one hand and filled plate in the other. Louis nodded and began to lead the way into the living room. Despite his aunts’ insistence that meals happen at the table, old habits die hard and Louis much preferred eating on the couch. Harry trailed behind him and followed suit as Louis set his plate on the coffee table and pulled the blanket around his waist after plopping down onto the cushions.

Before picking up his plate, Louis faced Harry who was settling into the other half of the couch. “Do you like  _ Bake Off _ ?”

“Is Mary Berry’s biggest fear a soggy bottom?” Harry scoffs and shakes his head. “Do I like  _ Bake Off _ … I brought you homemade bread!”

Louis throws his head back and laughs, “Okay, okay, mate! I was just curious!” He presses play on the show and takes a sip of wine before digging into the food Harry brought. He’s suspicious of the vegetables, he’s very picky when it comes to green things but as he pops a bite into his mouth paired with a bit of the pasta he can’t help but moan just a little bit. He tries to muffle it behind his hand but Harry appears to have heard it. In the corner of his vision he can see a smile creeping up Harry’s cheeks as he shakes his head.

“It’s not that good.” Harry says into his plate.

“No lad, it’s not good. It’s fucking incredible.” Louis swallows and gestures at Harry with his fork. “How dare you trick me into believing you’re some deranged asshole when all along you’ve been Gordon Ramsey in disguise.” Yes, Louis does realize he’s just met this man and he has no idea why his aunts wouldn’t have given him some warning about a neighbor who randomly drops by with food and wine. But the food is just really good and Louis is very tired and this man is very handsome.

Harry giggles and scrunches his nose as he stabs a bit of pasta, “Maybe I’ve poisoned the food with Iocane powder.”

“Well that’s ridiculous because Iocane comes from Australia, which is full of criminals and criminals are used to not being trusted as you are not trusted by me so clearly I cannot choose the food in front of you.”

Harry’s eyes light with joy as he replies, “They’re both poisoned. I’ve spent the last few years building up an immunity to Iocane powder.” He can cook  _ and _ reference  _ The Princess Bride _ ? Louis may have just found his soulmate. Before he can start planning the wedding, the buzzer sounds through the flat. Louis signals for Harry to give him one minute as he untangles himself from the blanket and pads to the intercom.

“Pizza here for Louis Tomlinson.”  _ Shit _ , Louis totally forgot about the delivery. He buzzes the guy up and steps outside the door to wait for him. Surely, Harry wouldn’t be offended. He did drop by unannounced so it would make sense that Louis had made other dinner plans. Despite this logic, guilt swam in Louis mind and down to his stomach. He quickly pays the pizza delivery guy and rushes the boxes into the oven before Harry can catch sight of them. He’ll just take it to work with him tomorrow for lunch or something. He throws the boxes in the oven to keep them warm until Harry leaves. Before leaving the kitchen, he grabs another bottle of wine from the fridge.

As he rounds the corner into the living room, he sees a flash of orange scurry across the room. Louis doesn’t have time to give Harry a proper warning before nine pounds of adrenaline and fluff go hurtling at his chest. Harry, completely oblivious to the stalking that had occurred prior to the Great Leap, yells in surprise as Olivia lands on him. Louis wishes it had happened in slow motion, but instead in a flash there’s a cat clinging to Harry, pasta all over the floor, and an entire glass of wine drenching both of them.

Louis stands in shock for a moment gauging Harry’s reaction before taking any action. Harry slowly lifts his head to meet Louis’ eyes and immediately burst into giggles which quickly blend into shouted laughter. “What the hell kind of cat is this?” He gasps out as he wraps a large,  _ large _ , hand around Olivia to support her and possibly try to alleviate some of the claws digging into his skin.

“She’s a goddam menace.” Louis laughs and sets the bottle on the table before extending his arms to take Olivia from Harry. To his surprise, Harry looks hesitant to release her from his grip and instead sets his own glass down and puts another hand on her back. “She loves to be held, so she’s probably really digging you right now. But we should definitely get that wine off of her before she starts licking it.” Louis tears his attention from Harry’s crinkled eyes and tries to get the attention of his bratty cat. “Olivia, ma’am. What have you done?” He lovingly berates her as she turns to look at him. She meows and chirps at him and begins to knead Harry’s chest. The look on his face is priceless, a giant smile is plastered over his face, his mouth is stretched so wide it must be hurting him at least a little.

“Can I keep holding her?” Harry whispers as if he’s afraid to spook her.  _ If she were easily spooked she wouldn’t have launched her entire being at a complete stranger, _ Louis thinks but nods and gestures for Harry to follow him.

Louis leads him into the bathroom connected to his bedroom and closes the door behind Harry. Immediately the room is overcome with the smell of wine. Louis wrinkles his face up at the smell. The living room was surely worse off but that wasn’t the priority for this moment. The first was making sure his demon cat didn’t manage to accidentally kill herself.

After some sincere howling from Olivia and pitiful laughter from Harry and Louis, they emerge from the bathroom covered in water and watch Olivia scamper under Louis’ bed. Louis takes one look at Harry’s shirt covered in white wine, cat hair, and tub water and giggles.

“You look like an absolute wreck, lad.”

“Not like you’re much better off!” Harry counters, but pulls the fabric away from himself to examine the chaotic materials clinging to his skin. “I mean, I don’t want to  _ whine _ or anything.”

“Stop, no.”

“ _ Water _ you talking about? I think everything I’m saying is  _ purr-fectly _ fine.” Harry’s eyebrows are raised halfway up his forehead and it’s all Louis can do to keep from groaning. Instead, he rolls his eyes and digs through his laundry basket for a second and tosses a clean shirt towards the perpetrator of some of the worst jokes Louis has ever heard, and he doesn’t hesitate to tell Harry just what he thinks of his jokes. To which he is met with a sincere pout.

Harry glances at the shirt he caught and ponders for a moment, “I can just go to my flat and change it’s fine.”

Louis is quick to counter him, “Don’t worry about it, lad. No reason to miss anymore  _ Bake Off  _ time. Besides, I know where you live now.” He winks and searches for another shirt to replace his own, which had become unwearable after the traumatizing of Olivia. He knows he had a sweatshirt in the wash that made his eyes look particularly nice. Not that he was trying to impress Harry or anything. Louis pauses once he puts his hands on the sweatshirt, he hopes he doesn’t come off as weird or desperate to Harry by telling him to stay rather than walk the ten feet back to his own place. He doesn’t even know if Harry is interested in Louis, let alone if he’s even gay. Maybe he should just ask him, there are really only three options there: Harry says yes, Harry says no and is very cool, or Harry gets very offended and bad things happen. Well, Louis wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who reacts so negatively to the suggestion of being gay anyways. Louis finally convinces himself to ask and as he turns around with the sweatshirt clutched in his hands he finds himself confronted with a very shirtless Harry examining his original shirt.

Louis can’t help his raking his gaze over Harry’s chest. Littered with seemingly random, but beautiful tattoos. A large butterfly sits pleasantly below his nipples but above his navel. Leading Louis’ eyes to the slight trail of hair snaking down to the button of skin-tight black trousers. Louis catches sight of the love handles sitting on Harry’s hips, an innocuous paradox to the sturdiness of the rest of Harry’s body.

Louis forces himself to meet Harry’s eyes. He’s sure he’s been staring at Harry with his mouth gaping open for about twelve hours but Harry doesn’t seem to have noticed and instead proceeds to pull Louis’ shirt over his curls and covers up the best thing Louis’ laid eyes on since he met Olivia. Okay, definitely very different sensations were happening that time but that’s the best example he can think of at the moment. Before he can scare away this once seemingly deranged asshole turned literal deity, Louis swaps his shirt out for the sweatshirt and suggests they get back to the living room.

The two finish cleaning up the living room, which wasn’t as bad as Louis anticipated, and settle back into their separate corners of the couch to watch the contestants’ attempts at macarons. In Doncaster, Louis hadn’t had much time to try and date while every part of his life was falling apart. So when he met Nick he was ready to settle into something comfortable and safe. He’d never really gone out with the intention of finding someone, so Louis just assumed cute boys didn’t make him nervous. While that may still be true, apparently cute boys do make him forget to eat anything and forget to monitor how much he’s drinking.

Louis is too preoccupied imagining a scenario in which he invites Harry to search for Olivia under his bed with him. Maybe Harry gets down on all fours to peer under the bed, arse up in the air. While Louis is off in his head, he doesn’t notice Harry forgetting his dinner as well and being entirely too helpful with the bottle of wine.

It isn’t until Louis stands to go to the bathroom that he realizes how drunk he is. The lights seem just a bit too bright and the hostess’s jokes are just a bit funnier than usual. Louis stumbles into the kitchen and grasps in the oven for the box he had left earlier. Without consulting Harry, who is staring absentmindedly at the telly and commenting under his breath, Louis tosses the box onto the couch and helps himself to the biggest slice he lays eyes on. Pizza is a universal language and before they know it, Louis and Harry have devoured the entire pie and made an hour’s worth of mindless conversation.There has been one consistent trait people use to describe Louis, he’s loud, loud, loud, and loud. But as he talks with Harry, he doesn’t feel the need to be loud. There’s no urge to prove himself and Harry has a presence that fills the room but allows for Louis to occupy his own space. If he had to personify it, their energies seemed to waltz around and complement each other in a way Louis had never experienced before.

“Best. Pizza. Ever.” Harry groans tossing the final crust into the box and slapping a hand to his stomach. Louis giggles and drains the rest of the wine in his glass. Harry looks delectable splayed over the other end of his couch. Curly brown hair wildly encompassing the arm of the sofa and his manically long legs spread over the cushions. It doesn’t help that Louis’ legs have somehow become tangled up in Harry’s, he certainly didn’t mean for it to happen. Louis wonders what it would be like to run his hands through the curly locks and twist them around his fingertips.

“I thought you were such a twat.” Louis breaks up the comfortable silence that had settled over them. Harry adjusts the throw pillow behind his head and meets Louis’ gaze with brows drawn together. Louis lets a lazy grin spread over his face at Harry’s confusion, “I mean besides the stairs thing, why did you get so worked up in the shop today?”

Harry groans and drags his palms over his face, “I’ve had a tough couple of months to say the least.” He eyes the ceiling as if it’s personally wronged him in some way before taking a breath and twisting his bottom lip with his fingers. Louis watches Harry and waits for him to continue, not that Harry owes him any explanation but his curiosity is getting the better of him. It’s a testament of his willpower and patience that he doesn’t blurt out-

“What happened?”  _ Okay, so much for willpower. _ Louis’ inner narrator rolls his eyes at himself.

Harry scrunches his face up and smiles, which Louis thinks is weird considering they’re still basically strangers and Louis is shamelessly prying.

“I’m 23.”

“I’m 25. What does that have to do with anything?” Okay so maybe wine on an empty stomach wasn’t the best decision Louis’ ever made.

Harry screws up his face and continues without acknowledging Louis. “I’m 23 and I’m going to divorced in like two months.” Harry covers his eyes with one hand and takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment and slowly lets his chest deflate. Louis blanches when he knows Harry can’t see him. Not that he was intentionally putting the moves on Harry, but had he known he was  _ married _ … Soon to be divorced, yes. But married now. Harry doesn’t let his hand drop from his face and continues talking from behind his forearm. “Married the  _ love of my life _ ,” sarcasm pours from Harry’s mouth as he says the words. “We met in uni- he was like three years older than me and I thought that was kinda hot, ya know? A mature man…” Harry seems to get lost in his thoughts for a moment and slides the hand over his eyes down to his mouth. The next thing he says nearly gets lost behind his hand but Harry says it just loud enough for Louis to hear, “The man I thought was going to be the absolute love of my life- so much so that I fucking married him - cheated on me.”

Louis doesn’t know anything in that moment. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know if Harry trusts him or if he tells this to everyone. He doesn’t even know Harry’s last name. He does know that he’s ready to hunt down this man and kick his teeth down his throat. Louis shakes the thought from his mind, that’s a completely irrational and weird thing to think about someone he barely knows.

“Are you serious? That’s fucked up.” Louis finally decides on as his response.

“Yeah and that’s not even the worst of it. Arsehole won’t let me be. He calls me every so often and like threatens to show up at my work or like back at the flat. I’m fucking paranoid I’m gonna come home one day and…” Harry trails off and seems to rethink what he was saying. “I don’t think he would hurt me or anything. But like I’m just tired of fighting. I just want him gone.”

Louis nods knowingly, “People think that like when you’re going through stuff that it only lasts for a day or two. But until you’re in the thick of it… I think it’s hard to understand that everyday becomes a constant battle and especially with stuff like that it’s easy to feel guilty for not remembering it at every moment. Like if you aren’t sad or grieving at every possibly opportunity you aren’t being authentic to your experience.”

Harry just stares at Louis for a moment before slowly beginning to nod. “Yeah, that’s it exactly. I feel like if I have a good day then it’s not fair for me to be upset the next day. Like I should just get over it.”

“It’s bullshit.” Louis says simply and crosses his arms. Harry lets out a shout of laughter and agrees.

“It’s fucking bullshit.”

They smile softly at each other. Louis holding his own sadness in the back of his throat. He’d done a good job at keeping all of his shit buried and untouchable, he didn’t need this possibly new friend to learn all of his traumas. Not quite yet. He has the feeling Harry wouldn’t be judgmental or try to offer insincere empathies; Louis is just tired of being sad and he’s finally feeling better and distracted and if he lets anything slip through the cracks now, he’s not sure anyone can pull him back from the edge.

“This might seem odd to ask now, but why did you come over today. I mean I’m glad you did but why here?”

“Georgia and Eliza are the only people who know, well besides you now. He called me today right as I was about to go into the café, which is why I got a bit short with you today.” Harry traces his fingers over the cross tattoo on the side of his hand. “I just needed to be around people I liked today. I usually go to my mates who own the shop, Niall and Liam, about this kinda stuff but they don’t actually know that Michael and I aren’t together anymore.”

“Why not? If it were me I don’t think my mates would ever hear the end of it.”

Harry sighs and begins to play with the bottom of his t shirt, twisting the hem and tugging it down over his stomach. “I waited too long I think. Like I didn’t even tell my family until a month after it happened because it’s just so…icky. I don’t want anyone to think badly of him and like talking about it makes it very real and I just don’t want to think about it all that much.” Harry touches his left ring finger mindlessly. “I just took the ring off a couple weeks ago. I think they noticed but are too polite to say anything and I feel like if I say something now they’ll think I didn’t trust them or something. Like I didn’t think they were important enough to tell. But that’s not it at all. I just… don’t want to remember it.”

Louis bites his lip and nods his head slightly. Everything Harry says hits so close to his heart that it’s hard not to interject and throw in every detail of the last several years of his life going to shit so quickly.

Harry yawns loudly and his eyes begin to slip shut as he nestles into the couch cushions. Louis can see there’s still a tension in his shoulders even as he appears to be drifting to sleep. Harry’s eyes fly open and he sits up rubbing his face.

“Shit I almost fell asleep there. I should get back home.”

“Oh yeah, probably.” Louis isn’t sure what he’s thinking when he says, “Or you could just stay here for the night. I wouldn’t mind.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow at him and seems to consider it for a second before shaking his head and looking around for his shoes. “Thank you, but I have work tomorrow so I need to get up early.”

It’s not that Louis is disappointed; he barely knows Harry. He just wishes Harry could stay just a few moments more. It’s at this moment Olivia comes sneaking out of Louis’ bedroom and slinks into the living room. Louis spies her and begins to sit up from the couch to pick her up but she notices and darts away instead. Olivia scampers to Harry and begins to wind between his legs and meows at him until he leans down and lifts her into his lap.

Harry keeps her in one arm as he slips his feet into his shoes. Despite Harry’s attempts to lower Olivia to the ground, she clings to his shirt and refuses to be let go. Louis spends the next several minutes detaching her claws from Harry and threatening to not give her anymore treats for a month before she finally relents. Harry is entirely unhelpful throughout the entire ordeal and giggles while Louis glares at the orange cat and scoots her with the side of his foot down the hall. He bids Harry goodnight and as he’s about to shut the door Harry turns around and pulls his lower lip into his mouth.

“CanIhugyou” Harry rushes to say in a single breath. Louis grins and holds open his arms. Harry takes a step forward and folds into Louis’ embrace. Harry may have a couple inches on Louis but he bends himself down to Louis can keep his heels on the ground for once. Harry smells like vanilla and his arms fit snugly around Louis. After several moments, Harry lets go, smiles at Louis and disappears down the corridor to his flat.

“So much for an uneventful evening.” Louis mutters as he shuts the door and heads to bed. The wine settling in his veins and making his head feel heavy. Louis drifts to sleep with Olivia curled around his ankles. He dreams of surprise visitors and curly hair.

******

“Louis!”

Louis jumps at the shout behind him and whirls around to see Liam standing with a sack of flour on the floor in front of him. Louis raises an eyebrow and lets his gaze trail to the floor and back up to Liam who either looks full of anger or just a tad constipated. Louis doesn’t have the chance to ask why Liam seems ready to throttle him before he thrusts a hand at a sack on the ground. “What is this?” It’s probably not a question, but Louis doesn’t have the energy to deal with Liam’s elongated pauses today.

“Would that be flour, Liam?”

Liam glowers at Louis before continuing. “It is. Why, pray tell, was there a sack of flour in the middle of the kitchen floor? I almost tripped and broke my neck!”

Louis fixes his gaze on Liam and purses his lips. “Well Liam. If  _ someone _ had told me where to put the flour, then someone  _ else _ wouldn’t have just dropped it after holding it for twenty-eight minutes.”

“You could have asked!”

“Or perhaps if someone let someone else do the heavy lifting every  _ once in a while _ then that someone else wouldn’t have been lost on something as simple as restocking!”

“I let other people do it!”

Louis guffaws and crosses his arms over his chest, setting himself in a power stance in front of Liam. “Every time before now I’ve tried to help you bat me away to do something else. The only people who know are Shawn and Niall. Neither of whom are here and it’s just me getting yelled at every time I do something wrong that  _ you  _ didn’t teach me how to do!”

Liam sighs and presses his palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry Lou, I guess I just get a little anal retentive about the store.”

“I’m basically an expert on the topic and you’re not anal. You’re being an ass.” Liam flushes deep red and grimaces before disappearing into the kitchen sack of flour in tow.

That was definitely not Louis’ proudest moment. He had intended to make Liam laugh but somehow that was not at all what happened. Louis looks around the shop, there are only a few people meandering around. Some drift into the rare patch of sun coming in through the main window while the other crowd to the back of the shop to avoid the reach of the light. Music floats quietly over their heads and swirls around the roar of the coffee grinder and steamer. Louis leans against the counter and wipes his hands on his apron. He brought a book for slow moments like this but it doesn’t feel right to pull it out right now. He pulls a deep breath in and feels the pull at the bottom of his lungs. Niall won’t be in until later and without his consistent energetic presence Louis feels just a bit lost. This is the first shift he’s worked with just Liam, who claimed it wouldn’t be too busy due to the upcoming school holiday. Louis sighs and reaches for the book, figuring he has nothing better to do until the next rush.

*********

_ In conclusion, the homoerotic tendencies present in the works of Emily Dickinson’s poetry and works suggests she may have been a member of the queer community. _

Harry nods and marks a partial credit on his student’s term paper, he had been grading all morning and as he added his final comments he could feel a cramp building in his fingers. Grading papers had taken especially long this morning. Double sided times new roman filled pages filled his days lately, but the longer Harry remained in his office chair, the more he thoughts started to wander. He wasn’t really sure what to make of the night before. For the first time in a long time, he had talked about Michael without crying. Nothing to do with the fact that he was talking about Michael around other people, Harry had no shame in crying in public. He was known to tear up at least twice on any given day.

But being with Louis had been… easy. He could just exist. There wasn’t pressure to please or to make Louis laugh or to comfort or teach. Harry just talked and Louis listened with his head tilted slightly to the left, his cheek perched on his hand and nodding no matter the nonsense that tumbled out of Harry’s mouth. Making friends with strangers was one thing, but talking to Louis was like stepping onto another plane of existence. From the moment their conversation had picked up over pizza, they had stumbled over common ground effortlessly. Louis’ cheeks had turned the nicest shade of pink as the wine bottle slowly emptied and their movements become more exaggerated.

Harry glances out the window, a rare blue sky opening up over London despite the biting cold that had accompanied him on his walk to campus this morning. Blue. The same blue of Louis’ eyes. Did Harry mention that Louis’ eyes were blue? How wonderful is that?

A rasp on the door of his office and Harry nearly leaps out of his chair. Harry feels caught, not that just thinking about the color of his neighbor’s eyes is anything to be ashamed of. He was just reflecting on his evening. That’s healthy, that’s what good adults do. He clears his throat, “’Ello?”

Without response, a blonde whirlwind spins into the room and drops into the chair facing Harry’s desk. Harry feels his spine stiffen and he forces a smile onto his face, another normal, healthy reaction to seeing a close friend.  _ Goddammit can you calm down and act normal for thirty seconds? _ Harry chides himself. Niall is too busy unpacking a bag of pastries to notice Harry controlling his breathing. Could someone feel another person’s thoughts? Not that it would matter. Harry is a normal person who definitely doesn’t have a crush on the personification of the sun that lives 5 meters from his own flat. The one he used to share with his husband. The one that still has his husband’s name on the rental agreement. He still has a husband. Harry stops himself from looking at the floor. He’s sure if he did he would see a fist sized hole in the floorboards his heart just created as it slammed through his feet.

Naturally, Niall is the one to break the silence, “Haven’t seen ya in a minute, mate!”

“End of term and all that’s got me busy lately, I guess.” Harry shrugs and takes his place in the chair next to Niall. Perfect timing of Niall to drop by the moment his existential crisis is creeping in. He accepts the cup Niall extends to him and takes a sip while his friend recounts the mornings escapades at the shop. When he mentions Louis tripping and launching a muffin directly into the face of a grouchy patron Harry lets out a shouted laugh and immediately claps a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

Niall eyes him with suspicion, but says nothing.

“Harry, can I ask ye something?” He has a feeling he knows what Niall is going to ask about. After talking with Louis last night, Harry had begun to contemplate how unrealistic it was to keep his separation from Michael a secret from Niall and Liam.

Harry nods and reaches for one of the muffins on his desk.  _ Better late than never _ . He fidgets with the paper wrapper and wonders how he is even going to start.

“Did you lose your ring?” Harry feels a bit of defensiveness rise in his stomach. It takes him a moment to recognize that maybe that was the safest way Niall knew how to approach the subject.

“I took it off.” Harry sighs and resists touching the skin where his gold band had once rested. He had finally decided to remove the ring once he got back to his flat last night. Realizing the metal no longer felt like a security blanket. Instead, each time he felt the band touching his skin he could’ve sworn a trail of hives was left in its place.

As Harry released the truth from his chest he felt weight lifting off his chest in a magnificent way. He was so used to carrying his sadness by himself and each day as he got out of bed it felt like lifting a thousand-kilogram bag on to his shoulders. As if he was Atlas hoisting the weight of the world on his back, feeling each of his vertebrates fracturing under the pressure.

Without missing a beat, Niall wrapped his arms around Harry and held him close to his chest. The two rocked slowly from side to side and in the silence Harry felt the wound in his heart heal that much more. 


	5. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song for this chapter is Butterflies by Kacey Musgraves

February

Harry heard music differently now. Where his morning commute used to be full of melancholic and waning songs of lost love and unshed tears, he found himself leaning away from the sadness he had become so accustomed to. Granted, he wasn’t ready for Walking on Sunshine or anything like that. Instead he switched to a Fleetwood Mac playlist and for the first time in a long time, Landslide didn’t make his toes curl inside his shoes. In the words he heard a message of hope, he heard his future and he heard the resilience with which he was moving forward. He didn’t have to be afraid of his future and he wasn’t building hope on broken things anymore.

Harry was allowed to just exist now. It was like someone had lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders, one that he had gotten so used to bearing, that walking felt like floating again.

As he gets off the tube heading for his flat Harry feels his phone buzzing erratically in his pocket.

Harry doesn’t even get the chance to say hello before a cacophony is assaulting his eardrums through his headphones. He giggles and waits patiently for Louis to acknowledge him.

“ _For fucks sake Georgia, yes I’ll ask him to pick up the spinach… No I don’t know where you put the big pot… Did you look… AH FUCK…”_

“Do I need to pick up spinach from the shop?” Harry finally interrupts Louis’ one sided conversation. He can practically hear Louis jump at the sound of his voice.

“Jesus Harry, forgot I called you.” Harry rolls his eyes and doesn’t suppress the grin crossing his face as he heads for the shop near their building. “Georgia is trying some new recipes and I guess she forgot spinach or something. Would you bring some when you come over?”

Louis prattles on about some crazy story at the shop earlier that day and how Liam had gotten a new haircut which had fueled Louis all day. Harry _hmms_ and adds his commentary as he browses the aisles.

“Is that why I got a text from Li about tossing you into the Thames with weights tied to your ankles earlier?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

“He’s been working out you know.”

Louis scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re getting at here. Besides, if you _were_ implying what I think you are, I could definitely take on Liam in a fight.”

“Let me know when you decided to try so I can have medic on standby.”

Harry spends the next five minutes apologizing before Louis stops threatening him. As Harry approaches the check-out line he bids his goodbye to Louis and hangs up. A bag of spinach for Georgia, a six pack so Niall doesn’t complain about the lack of beer all evening, and a chocolate bar he slips into his pocket to give to Louis later.

By the time he makes it back to the flat, Harry has sent texts to both Liam and Niall confirming that they would be joining for weekly game night. He doesn’t know when exactly it became a _thing,_ but after his and Louis’ impromptu wine night, they began rhythmically seeing each other once, usually twice a week. Sometimes it was just the two of them watching a random docu-series until they couldn’t keep their eyes open for a moment longer. Other times, Georgia and Eliza would join in and turn it into what they began to refer to as Family Game Night. This week they had insisted that Harry and Louis invite Niall and Liam. Despite sharing the mutual friends, this would be the first time the four of them were getting together outside the shop. Harry was skeptical that playing monopoly would strengthen their bond as a group. He had been paired against Louis exactly one time. Harry ended up drenched in Sprite and Louis was picking glitter out of his hair for a week afterwards.  

Harry strolled up the stairs to the landing of their flats. The silence of the landing was quickly shattered by the sounds of pans clattering to the ground and muffled shouting behind the door to the adjacent flat. He had planned on going back to his own flat to drop off his bag from work, but his presence might be a bit more required at his neighbors.

Not bothering to knock, Harry pushed open the door and was quickly met by Olivia dashing towards him. Despite her attempts to get out the door, Harry persuaded her to stay in the apartment with gentle nudges from his boots. Just as he manages to shut the door and toe off his shoes, Louis comes bounding around the corner with a stack of board games in hand.

“Oh thank goodness you’re finally here.” Louis sighs and pushing the tower of games onto the counter. “I think El is about one more fire alarm away from ripping her hair out.” Tragically but in perfect timing the beeping of the smoke detector sounds through the apartment followed by a shout, presumably from Eliza.

Not to be dramatic, but chaos ensues. Eliza is sent to Harry’s flat for refuge while Harry immediately takes over in the kitchen and Georgia is sent with a glass of wine to set the table.

Quickly picking up where Eliza left off, Harry manages to tame the mess that their kitchen became and sets Louis on dish duty, who only complains the entire time.

By the time Liam and Niall arrive with bottles of wine and desserts in hand, the stress level of the flat has gone from critical to a baseline cacophony. Eliza has returned and plays the part of the gracious hostess while Louis is tasked with serving wine and the cheese platter Harry put together.

The entire evening goes off without a hitch. Well, without any unexpected hitches. Liam claims that monopoly won’t be _that_ bad and after a few glasses of wine and a full meal, Harry is too sated to argue. So it starts off fine, Liam insists on pairing with Eliza after discovering a mutual love of Game of Thrones. Niall grabs Georgia’s arm without second thought, leaving Louis to shrug and scoot closer to Harry on the couch.

Pretending to shield his face from the room, Niall theatrically whispers to Georgia, “He’s gonna talk mad shit, Georgie. Don’t listen to him.” He points at Louis behind his hand and winks. Louis scoffs and slings an arm over Harry’s shoulders. In a matter of seconds, Harry is consumed with Louis’ scent, musky but with a hint of something floral underneath. There’s a little bit of Louis’ skin pressing against the back of his neck and the weight against his shoulders feels like the only thing keeping him from floating into the stratosphere. Harry doesn’t know who filled his chest with helium but he’s certain he could feel a million children’s balloons with the pressure filling him from head to toe.

“ _Oi_ , I don’t know who you think you are. But you’ve got dream team over here. Harold here is absolute madman. If anything you should be worried about him.”

The last thing he needed was Louis drawing any attention to him.  “I’m not actually that good.” Harry mumbles to his knees.

You would have thought someone slapped Louis, because his head whipped to the side so quickly. Pretending not to notice Louis watching him, most likely with concern, Harry clears his throat and scurries off to the bathroom before the game can start. He splashes some water on his face, slaps his cheeks for good measure and heads back out.  _Get it together, keep it cool._

***

“This is such shit.”

“It’s not shit, Lou. It’s about the Earth, it can’t be shit.” Harry settled deeper into the couch and tossed popcorn absentmindedly at his mouth. The boys had left about an hour ago, despite Louis and Harry’s attempts, the aunts had shoved the boys out of the flat while they cleaned. Which is how they ended up on Harry’s couch at one in the morning. “Nature is majestic.” Harry adds as he digs a kernel out of the collar of his shirt.

They had variations of this conversation every time Harry convinced Louis to watch documentaries with him. Last week it had been a film about a coal mining county in America during the 1970s, the week before had been about a man who lived with Grizzly Bears. Harry was a documentary aficionado. Despite his love for the genre, he rarely had the time or energy to engage in a film before Louis had started a weekly movie night for the two of them.

Louis also loved documentaries- but did so in a very different fashion than Harry. Louis often spent the entire film muttering commentary about the idiosyncrasies in the films. While some may have written Louis’ narrative off as frivolous and attention seeking, Harry noticed a trend. Louis wasn’t making fun of the films, quite the opposite really. He had deep thoughts and intentions behind the curses and outbursts. Harry quite liked to sit back and listen to Louis spout his impressions. Usually, a slight pushback on any of Louis comments sent him into a spiral that called for a pause of the film.

“Okay, now that’s worse.” Louis countered, not bothering to look away from the screen where a film crew was documenting the plights of great white sharks off the coast of South Africa. “I swear I want to puke every time I watch one of these films about how graceful and majestic and beautiful nature is. Have you actually ever camped? Like proper camped? It’s awful. Nature isn’t majestic. Putting nature up on a pedestal like that doesn’t actually do anything, it just makes people feel less connected to the environment.” Harry wasn’t watching the movie anymore, instead his eyes were trained on Louis’ profile as he continued to rant about the injustice of elitism and environmentalism. Every once in a while, he would throw a hand to the television as if this particular film crew was desperate to prove his point exactly. Harry was worried if Louis became anymore animated in his speech, his eyebrows would arch off his forehead completely.

“Which is why, as I said earlier. This is such shit.” Louis concluded and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

Harry nodded and murmured, “I think we do that a lot with our own lives.” Agreement had probably not been what he was used to after sharing his rants with Harry over the past few weeks.

Louis egged him on, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know particularly, but I think we tend to put life on a pedestal and expect to have specific results. Wife, 2.5 kids, dog, picket fence, and the lot. But being queer, we lose part of that life we’ve been told to aim for. So we cling to the other parts that would make us fit into that normal. Get married, get respectable jobs, don’t cause a fuss, find a way to get those 2.5 kids and picket fence all by the time your 25. Lord knows if it’s not done by then you’ve lost your chance.” Harry isn’t sure where he’s going with his speech exactly. But it feels like the gears have started to turn in his head and the more he delves into the idea the less he wants to stop talking. “I don’t want the perfect life. I don’t want to be the molded dough of society, but it’s nearly impossible to let go of those normative ideas. Like if you don’t have the family sitcom ideal fantasy of how the rest of your life will go, then what’s going to keep you from floating around from thing to thing? How can we measure our joy of life if we don’t have those set boxes to check off as we go?”

Louis watched him with curiosity behind his eyes, “Maybe we aren’t meant to measure our happiness or put it on some scale like it’s meant to be graphed or some shit. I sure hope no one’s waiting up there to show me a bar graph of my happiness over time… I’m really not sure I want to know something I can’t change.”

As Harry nodded his agreement, a particularly large shark leaped completely out of the water and showed off his enormous body in comparison to a fishing boat. In sync, Harry and Louis’ jaws dropped.

Louis let out a scoff and grabbed his drink from the table, “Forget all that- that was fucking cool.”


	6. I'll Come Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter is I'll Come Too by James Blake

March

Louis calls out the name one more time to no avail.  _ Fucking Sarah. _ He grabbed the elaborate drink that had apparently been ordered by a ghost and shoved it underneath the counter. Shaking his head, he wiped a bit of vanilla syrup off the counter with his apron and muttered under his breath. Liam claimed he was overdramatic, but he swore every time he was on drinks, he would make at least three incredibly complicated drinks for no one to claim.

“Curly!” Louis looked up at the sound of Niall’s voice in time to see Harry sauntering into the shop with a grin. “Thought ya had morning sessions?”

Harry shook his head as he approached the counter and perched his elbows on the surface. “Nah, finally get one day of sun and I decided to cancel my literature review. Those kids have a big storm coming with the paper I’m getting ready to assign- figured I should give them one day of rest before the sand gives way under their feet.”

Louis chuckles and Harry shoots him a grin, “You were never as horrible of a teacher as I am, right Lou?”

“Me? Never!” Louis feigns shock and clutches a hand to his chest. “I’ve certainly never forced my students to learn how to diagram a sentence.”

“That’s helpful!”

Louis scoffs, “You know it is not! Diagrams are for fun things like business and pie! Not stories!”

“Prose isn’t the only kind of writing there is ya know.”

Niall steps between Louis and the counter and snatches the syrup bottle Louis holds threateningly over Harry’s messenger bag. “Alright you two!” He points at Harry with the nozzle, “Order or get out.”

Harry pouts but puts his hands up in the air in surrender. “You know what I want, Ni.” Leaving Niall to grumble and start filling a cup with cold brew coffee. “Besides, you won’t want me running out the door when you hear what I’ve got for ya.” Lowering his hands, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a tupperware container. Louis raises an eyebrow and tries to sneak a peek into the plastic but Harry tilts to lid to obscure the items from view.  “Georgia might have slipped this to me this morning.”

Niall freezes and stares up at Harry, “Those are not…” he whispers.

Louis lunges and straightens the cream pitcher from where it had caused the drink to pour onto the counter. “Niall!” he curses and grabs a rag to start cleaning up the mess.

“Oh they are.” Harry confirms and rattles the container for effect. Niall makes grabby hands and reaches for the container which Harry in turn holds out of reach. Louis shoots a confused look between the two of them and waits until Harry lets his guard down for just a moment before snatching the Tupperware from his grasp. He cracks the lid and dances out of Harry’s reach.

One whiff and Louis could pick out the traces of what would have excited Niall so much.

“Why am I not surprised.”

Niall took the chance to grab the container of brownies from Louis hand and hold them close to his chest protectively. “Don’t wanna hear it Tommo. You can take my afternoon shift and Harry and I will take advantage of this lovely weather.”

Louis scoffs, “I never said I didn’t want in.” He counters as he lunges forward.

Niall leaps back and cackles while dancing into the kitchen. “You get to live with her! I should get something out of putting up with ya every day.”

“I want some of those!” Harry yells then shakes his head and chuckles as Louis rolls his eyes. He reaches out and taps Louis’ shoulder to get his attention. “Georgia actually gave me something else.” He reaches into his bag again.

Louis raises his eyebrows and leans over the counter, not caring that he definitely was getting spilled coffee on his apron. He had to wash it soon anyways. Harry pulls a brown paper sack from his bag with a flourish and pushes it over the counter to Louis. “For you.”  He says simply and tucks his arms under his chest.

For just a second, Louis gets lost looking into Harry’s eyes. The mid-morning light filtering into the shop creating a glow behind his head illuminating the fly away hairs that looked like they were trying to jump out of his loose bun and into the atmosphere. Harry had his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Louis hadn’t noticed how the front two were kind of like…bunny teeth. A sincere grin covered Harry’s features as he looked eagerly between the sack and Louis. How long had he been staring? He suddenly realized a grin had started to crawl across his face as well.

Louis coughed and investigated the paper bag Harry had been so excited to hand over.

“How does this look sketchier than the weed brownies”

“Shut up and open it.”

Louis rolled his eyes and looked into the bag. A ham sandwich is sat atop an apple, a pudding cup, and nestled to the side of the cup is rolled up paper note. Louis creases his brows and reaches for the note.

_ Boobear! _

_ Noticed you haven’t been packing a lunch for work!! _

_ Unacceptable. _

_ Olivia x. _

“Booooobeeaaaaarrr!” Harry sings and Louis quickly pulls the note from Harry’s wandering eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Boobear!”

“I don’t want to hear another word out of you, Styles.”

Harry sticks his bottom lip out- pouting. Louis lets his gaze linger on Harry’s lips for just a second.

“But…but...” Harry trails his fingers along the counter top and gazes sadly down at the trail he’s tracing through some spilled sugar particles. Louis raises one brow and crosses his arms over his chest with the note still grasped tightly in his hand. 

“But nothing.”

Harry sticks his lip out even further and reaches a hand out to Louis’ crossed arms. Louis tenses slightly at the touch but keeps his eyes locked tight on Harry’s fingers as they trace up his bicep. Harry pauses for just a moment before sliding his fingers around the circumference of Louis’ upper arm and giving a light squeeze. Louis becomes quite aware of the breath desperate to escape from his throat but he holds steady as his heart pounds in his ears. Between the thrumming beneath his skin, Louis swears he hears Harry whisper,  _ firm. _

“Get a fucking room.”

Niall’s voice breaks through the bubble Louis hadn’t realized the two of them had constructed. He sends Niall a view of his favorite bird and thrusts the note and the lunch under the counter. He squares up at Niall who cackles and readjusts a bag of flour in his arms and once again disappears into the kitchen. Turning back to Harry, he sees a bright red blush descending from his cheeks down his neck and providing a red sky for his chest piece.

Louis meets his eye and gives him a sly grin which Harry returns headily before seeming to catch himself and grabbing his bag. Louis hears a muttered goodbye and watches as Harry practically runs out of the café.

_ What the fuck was that, _ he thinks as he turns to go strangle Niall.

*****

It’s one of those gross days. One where Harry can’t seem to shake the sleep from his eyes or keep his toes from scraping the sidewalk as he trudges home. As soon as he’s through the door he’s kicking his shoes off and shuffling in socked feet to the kitchen for a cup or twelve of coffee. As usual, the weight of a million papers weighs on his shoulder before he plops his bag on the table.

The usual March chill has crept back over London and infiltrated his flat in the worst way. While there was nothing wrong with his insulation or heating, living in the flat by himself didn’t provide much wiggle room in the sense of leaving his heating on for longer than absolutely necessary. Harry shivers and wraps a blanket tightly around his shoulders and torso as he settles onto the couch.

He glances around the room, not much is left after the big move-out event. Green stickers still littering the few items left around the room that Michael hadn’t taken with him. At least he had given Harry the decency of a forewarning before showing up on his stoop. The final signing of papers and division of items had happened at the rounded dining table. As his pen scratched his signature repetitively, memories of him and Michael bickering as they thrifted drifted into his mind. Michael had been insistent that a round table would only guarantee an awkward fit into their new flat. Harry hadn’t been able to let go of the picture of their future family gathering in a circle for dinners, game nights, and whatever other activities they could dream up. Harry didn’t envision the diameter of the table being just long enough that he would have to stand to push papers back and forth between he and Michael while the lawyer divided the table into unequal thirds.  

Michael and Harry had worked in amicable silence as they split the furniture between the two of them. Harry was too busy drowning in memories to fight with Michael when he claimed the bookshelf had been a gift from his grandmother and therefore he should get to keep it. Harry had only sighed and removed the clutter of his books that he had allowed to gather dust on the shelves.

The cold seemed to occupy the space left by the furniture and settle in the indents in the carpet. Harry squeezed the mug in his hand, hoping if he held the ceramic tight enough the warmth would spread beyond his fingers and wipe the lingering chill air from his skin. To no avail, Harry wonders if there are any more blankets stashed around the flat that Michael may have forgotten to take with him. His thoughts are interrupted by three sharp knocks at his front door.

Harry pulls the blankets around his body making himself into a human burrito, shuffles to the door and opens it to find a disgruntled Louis on the other side. Harry bites down a smile, Louis’ face reminding him of a frustrated kitten. His arms tightly crossed around his torso with the largest jacket Harry has ever seen draped over his shoulders. Well, one shoulder is exposed, giving off the essence of effortlessness.

“So are you going to let me in or should I present you with my ass after it freezes and falls off?”

Harry steps back and guides Louis to the living room.He picks up his mug again and resumes sipping at the now lukewarm coffee.

“Alright so um… why haven’t you answered my memes?”

Harry snorts into his coffee and proceeds to inhale some. Louis whacks his shoulders while Harry hacks.

“You know hitting someone’s back doesn’t actually help much?” Harry finally coughs out as he slaps Louis’ arm away from him. Louis just shrugs, leans back into the couch and pulls his jacket tighter around him. Harry clears his throat and stands murmuring about getting some water.

Louis calls out as he leaves, “You still haven’t answered me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about to be honest.”

As he fills a glass from the tap he hears the rustling of polyester and Louis appears in the kitchen next to him. “Yes you do. We have a system.” He states and pokes Harry’s side causing Harry to jerk away. “I send you very funny memes I find. You send me a million unnecessary laughing emojis even though I already know it’s hilarious. Then you try to send me an equally funny meme and fall hilariously short every time.”

“My memes are funny.”

“If you’re sending the same memes to me and your mum, they aren’t that funny.”

“ _ She _ likes them.”

“I know, you put us in a group chat several times.”

Harry just scoffs and fills the glass again.  _ He just doesn’t get it. _ “I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“Never said you were.” Louis sets a steely gaze on Harry. Harry practically chugs the water to avoid talking again. He’s heard if you drink enough water you can flood your kidneys, that would definitely get him a pass on this conversation. Although if he’s learned anything about Louis in the past few months, it’s that Louis would be waiting for him to be  _ quite finished _ and continue interrogating him. Harry sighs, he can’t afford to miss that much work anyways.

Harry can talk some shit though- shit talking is a lifesaving skill. “I also never said I was.”

Louis groans and drops his forehead to his hands. “Alright, you don’t want to tell me why you bailed on me every day this past week- fine. But I can’t convince Niall to hold out another night on those brownies so be at his place in an hour. We’re going out.” Louis says to the counter.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Harry gives Louis a clipped nod and watches him disappear out the door. Once he hears the click of the lock he lets out a ragged breath and wills his stomach to swirling. He hadn’t meant to make Louis think he was ignoring him. He just didn’t know how to function around Louis right now that was all. Harry had felt it coming for weeks, like he was running down train tracks and could feel the vibrations of the engine fast approaching. Running faster hadn’t done anything but postpone the inevitable. Louis the steam engine had swept Harry off his feet in the café. Harry swears he must have blacked out because one moment he’s trying to grab the note out of Louis’ hand and the next thing he knows he’s imagining Louis’ arms straining on either side of his head while Harry gets dicked into next week.

Harry shook the thought from his head. Louis isn’t into him like that and if Louis managed to develop telekinesis or something, Harry really doesn’t need him knowing he thinks about him like that. Maybe going out will help him loosen up a little bit, he thinks. At least he won’t be moping around his flat in the cold.

It takes Harry about ten years to decide on an outfit that feels like half of the intentional effortlessness that Louis manages to pull off every day and finally deem himself worthy to head to Niall’s. It takes another ten years for Harry to work up the courage to knock on the door. Niall and Liam have been his best friends since he came to London and Louis has managed to worm his way into his heart. He needs to grow up and do what any adult should. Shove his feelings to his ankles and pretend that nothing ever happened.

As soon as Harry walks through the door, Niall is pressing a brownie into his hand. It’s a common theme apparently, for the rest of the evening Harry finds himself grasping various beverages and eventually the burn of the liquor eases into a smooth glide down his throat. When Louis orders everyone a shot of tequila, Harry knows he’s fucked. When tequila tastes like water, you’re in too deep. 

****

Louis has always been proud of his ability to take care of himself even at his most fucked up. In uni, his friends had been about twelve seconds away from calling the police when they found him sleeping in a pile of blankets in his closet. Blackout Louis has one goal- find a soft spot to crash. So when Louis wakes up surrounded in the darkness by warmth and softness, he can’t help but give drunk him a pat on the back. He’s perched on his shoulder, but decides to shift onto his back and two things happen immediately.

One: Louis rolls over to find a very naked Harry pressed to his side.

Two: Louis’ stomach protests and the only thing he can do is launch himself out of bed, dashing for the bathroom as fast as his feet will carry him.

Louis emerges from the bathroom to find Harry extending a glass of water to him and looking sheepishly at the ground. He takes the glass and downs it. His feet are planted to the same spot. Harry won’t meet his eye and instead mumbled something unintelligible and shuffles back to the bedroom. Suddenly, Louis realizes he isn’t in his flat and is standing in his boxers in the middle of Harry’s hallway. He can always get his clothes later, he thinks grabbing his phone and keys from where he spots them on the counter and dashes back to his own bed. He has to feed Olivia anyways- if she doesn’t get her 2 AM impromptu snack what kind of parent would he be.

Louis suspects that Niall knows something is up after he volunteers to stack boxes of syrup bottles. Thankfully, he doesn’t prod- for now- and lets Louis work in the back for the majority of his shift. The longer Louis stays in the kitchen, the more menial tasks he manages to find and complete. However, thirty minutes before the end of his shift he can’t seem to find anything more to do. He’s swept the floor twelve times over and organized every last shelf and drawer well enough that Liam will only have to reorganize about half of them.

He sighs, admits defeat and slinks to the front of the shop. Keeping a steady eye on the door he works alongside Shawn and Niall to keep the morning rush moving steadily forward.

Louis doesn’t realize he’s still in the shop thirty minutes after the end of his shift until he hears a muffled groan. He catches sight of Harry’s back as he sprints out of the café like the place was about to go up in flames.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this.” Niall huffs and shoves Shawn into his spot at the register. “Tomlinson.” He doesn’t give Louis a chance to respond before he hooks a finger around his collar and drags him into the kitchen. Louis should probably struggle out of Niall’s hold but there’s no point. He would end up running to Niall anyways. He needs an outsider’s perspective on this one.

Niall lets go of Louis’ collar when they reach the worktop in the kitchen. Liam stops kneading dough for a second and raises an eyebrow at Niall’s expression. A lovely mixture of parental disappointment and empathetic confusion. Niall gestures at Louis with his entire arm and looks to Liam. “We’re right. Something did go down with Harry and Louis and apparently they aren’t planning on telling us anytime soon.”

Louis is offended. “I was going to tell you!” He resists bringing a hand to the back of his neck, trying to hold onto his remaining dignity.

“Right. When I forced it out of you, which- oh would you look at the time- is now.” Niall perches his hands on his hips and begins to tap his foot. Louis can’t help but be reminded of a cartoon mother waiting for a reason to scold.

“Do I have to be here for this?” Liam, never a fan of confrontation, chimes in. Niall doesn’t respond and only shoots a glare at Liam who purses his lips and continues to knead his dough.

“Yes. I need a witness.” Niall replies shortly and turns back to Louis. “You’re avoiding him.”

“It’s a mutual avoidance and we don’t need to discuss it.” If Niall could shoot daggers from his eyes, Louis is absolutely certain he would be. 

Louis takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to talk about something he doesn’t even know the full story to. He hadn’t been crossfaded in years and honestly it wasn’t even his fault. Okay, everything is a two-way street but why does he have to be the bigger person here. He’s not even sure there’s anything to be sorry about.

“I think Harry and I slept together?” He finally blurts out. He’s expecting Niall’s eyebrows to shoot entirely off his forehead and the walls to come crashing down around them. He’s ready to drown in a chorus of screams and denials with his back pressed to the wall.

“You owe me twenty pounds.” Niall says to Liam who only shrugs half-heartedly.           

“Definitely thought they had a few more months yet.” He sighs and wipes his hands on his apron.

Louis snaps his jaw shut and glares at Niall, who isn’t even looking at Louis and appears to be waiting for his payout from Liam. Once Niall has the twenty pounds settled in his pocket, Louis can practically feel the steam spewing from his ears. “The fuck?!”

Niall looks accosted, “Oh don’t even come at us with that. You two have been makin’ eyes since the word go. I thought I was being generous with my guess.” Niall stops himself and his eyes narrow. “Wait, what do you mean you think?”

“I want my twenty back!” Liam calls from the walk-in freezer.

“No!”

“I mean that… I don’t exactly recall what happened. I woke up in his bed this morning and like not to be presumptuous but um… it was a bit… incriminating.” Louis mumbles into his hand and twiddles with his fringe.

“Okay so…” Niall pauses. “Did you fuck?”

“Real classy, Ni.”

Niall puts his hands up in defense. “I mean you guys were getting pretty friendly last night. Ya left together and we figured it was time.” Niall wraps an arm around Louis’ shoulder and gives him a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?” He asks gently, keeping his arm steady around Louis.

Louis takes a breath and tries to ignore the lump that’s forming in his throat. “Yeah” he chokes out. “I mean, I just… I really like him okay? I’ve liked him for a while but obviously he’s been going through all that shit with Michael and how selfish of me would that be?” Louis angrily swipes at tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. He hiccups and continues, his tone getting sharper. “ _ Hey H, sorry about that whole traumatizing divorce thing. Know that’s been tough- wanna fuck though?” _

Niall’s grip gets tighter until he’s pulled Louis into a full hug. “He wouldn’t think of it as selfish.”

Louis just sighs and whispers mostly to himself, “I just didn’t want it to happen like this.”

Niall finally releases him from the hug and sends him home with a hot drink and a piece of Horan wisdom.  _ Sometimes it just be like that. _

Settling into a seat on the tube, he pulls out his phone and sees a text notification. His heart leaps for a moment, hoping it’s from Harry.

_ GEO: some1-idk who- broke the kitchen sink, xpect maintenance 2morrow _

_ Loubear: oh yeah wonder who could have done that _

_ GEO: whose to say  _

_         btw will be gone this evening its date night ;) _

_ Loubear: gross _

Louis almost walks past Harry’s door without stopping. There are so many things he could be doing. He could refold all of his laundry or put all of the spices in alphabetical order. He sighs, the longer he waits to talk to Harry the worse everything will get, he’s sure of it.

Harry opens the door after the first knock and there’s a twitch in his arm almost like he has the urge to shut it again. His hair is pulled back in a green patterned headband that makes his eyes pop a brighter shade of green. Dark circles under his eyes paired with the slight green tinge of his skin give him away and Louis thinks he sees something in Harry’s eyes he can’t quite read. Instead of slamming the door, he shows Louis a weak grin that doesn’t pass his cheeks and stays standing in the doorway. “Hi” he says quietly.

“Hi… can we um- can we talk?” Harry nods and takes a step back and letting Louis slip into the flat. Louis notices the lack of furniture in the room and furrows his brow. “Where’s all your stuff, H?”

“Um… Michael came by this weekend. We finalized the di-” Harry doesn’t seem to want to say the word out loud, though Louis knows exactly what he’s talking about. “We finalized everything and like, split up the stuff. So I guess all my stuff is technically here.” Harry glances around the flat again and a pink tinge appears on his cheeks.

“Oh- I didn’t know that that was this weekend.” Harry nods and slides into a chair at the dining table waiting for Louis to join him. Louis takes a cautious seat and stares intently at his hands. He had thought about what to say to Harry the entire ride back, but now that the culprit of heart theft was sitting right next to him he couldn’t remember how to speak.

“I’m-” Louis finally starts.

“We’re-” Harry blurts out at the same time and dissolve quickly into laughter. Louis feels warm for the first time all day hearing Harry’s shouting laugh. His face might split apart from how hard he’s grinning, Harry’s face is scrunched up and it feels like all the tension that had been building in the past week was slowly washing away between them. An easy silence settles over them for a moment and Louis looks at Harry softly and they exchange genuine smiles.

“I’ll be honest- I don’t know how to start. Which is weird because I never feel like I don’t know what to say to you.” Harry drops his shoulders and sighs, blowing a raspberry with his lips. Louis knows this is one of his stalling techniques, and it very much makes him look like a horse. “It’s also very hard to talk about what I don’t remember? I remember getting to the club and doing shots with the lads but it’s all a bit fuzzy from there to be honest.”

Harry scrubs a hand over his face, “Um… I honestly also don’t remember much. There was music and dancing and something blue.” He groans and covers his face entirely with his hands.

“Niall said we got in a cab together.” Louis offers and hopes maybe Harry can reverse Raven-Simone and recall the night.

“Yeah, I saw that on my credit card this morning. We must have also managed to convince the driver to pull past McDonalds because that’s on there.” Harry looks pointedly at Louis.

“Do you think we… ya know… um…”  _ Just ask him if he thinks you had sex with him it’s not hard. _ But Louis can’t find any of the right words to say.

As if Harry could read his mind, he just shakes his head and looks down at his hands. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Lou.”

Louis’ heart sinks,  _ he wouldn’t do that to me  _ plays on a loop in his head. Louis had a long history of relationships, flings, serious ones, and everything in between and he’s ended every one of them without blinking. But this doesn’t feel like any of those. If there was a string holding his stomach in the middle of his body, it has snapped and sent his insides rolling for the second time that day. But Louis will be damned if he shows Harry any of that mess. Instead he lets an imaginary curtain drop between him and Harry. He tells Harry he needs to go back to his flat and waves off Harry’s half hearted protests that Louis should stay. He understands when he’s not wanted.

In the few steps to his flat, Louis feels himself spiraling.  _ He was just a movie buddy. Just a friend. You know better than to read into these things. He knows you now and wants nothing to do with you.  _ He reaches the front door of his flat and feels his stomach sink even lower. The door is cracked open with a maintenance confirmation taped to the door.

Louis swallows the fear creeping up his throat and starts reasoning with himself. Sure, Olivia has been known to dash for the door from time to time but there’s no reason to panic yet. He sets his bag on the floor and calls for Olivia- nothing.  _ Maybe she’s sleeping. _

After five minutes of searching through the flat, Louis hasn’t found Olivia in any of her usual spots and can’t help the hot tears running down his face. He frantically grabs for his essentials and sprints to Harry’s door. Everything in his line of vision is blurred and he hopes he’s hitting the actual door as he pounds on the solid surface in front of him.

Harry’s blurry face appears in front of him and immediately Louis starts blubbering. “Olivia is-she’s-I can’t- oh Olivia” he sobs. Harry is just standing there staring at him looking more confused by the second. “The DOOR was  _ open.”  _ He finally says and fuck, it feels so real all of a sudden.

Louis starts to shake and his knees wobble underneath him. His baby, his Olivia. Out in the world.  _ In London. _ There must be over a million cars in the city not to mention loose dogs or someone might kick her. Louis barely feels Harry guide him to the floor, once he’s sitting he draws his knees up to his forehead and holds himself tight. Snot runs down his chin and onto his jeans. Louis has had bad days but this takes the cake.

“Breathe Lou.” He can feel Harry’s hand rubbing circles on his back. He feels like an idiot. Olivia is  _ out there _ and all he can do is sob helplessly into the creases of his arms. “I’m calling Niall right now, he’ll get some people over and we’ll go look. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay, we’ll find her.” Louis hears Harry sit hard on the floor and listens on as he talks to Niall. “Ni? Olivia got out I think…yeah… Are you and Li off? Can Shawn close by himself? Okay… we’re gonna start looking. Text me when you get here and start looking.”

The next few minutes are a blur for Louis, Harry gets him off the ground and steers him into his apartment. They gather a shakeable container of food, flashlights, and Olivia’s favorite blanket, at some point Harry forces a jacket onto his shoulders and pulls a beanie over his head. Louis doesn’t want to think about what he would do without Harry. He only feels hands on his shoulders and back guiding him down the stairs into the street.

“ _ OLIVIA _ ” Louis yells into the road. Dusk has quickly fallen over London and the chill is turning from frisky to a deeper, damp cold. Louis forces the thought of Olivia being out in the cold out of his head. He drops to his knees without regard for the moist pavement and peers under cars. He yells until his voice is hoarse and the battery in the flashlight starts to dull. He knows Harry is following close behind as he can hear the shaking of the food container every few seconds as Harry cries out.

It feels like hours and no time at all. Louis yelling into the void and receiving only the concerned looks of bypassers. At some point, Harry deviates to the other side of the street and his voice gets more faint as they search. Every once in a while, Louis catches Harry’s eye with the matching tear streaks in the glow of the street lights. The  _ ping  _ of Harry’s phone makes Louis’ chest constrict each time it sounds but rather than a message of relief, Harry gets updates of no importance from Niall and Liam.

Just as Louis begins retracing his steps down the alley two blocks from the flat, he feels a hand fall on his shoulder. “ _ Lou.” _ He can hear the exhaustion in Harry’s voice. He peeks at his phone,  _ 02:15, _ they’d been searching for 6 hours. He’s too tired to fight, too tired to cry anymore. He also sees several texts from Georgia he’d rather not read yet, figuring he would be able to talk to her at the flat.

Together, Harry and Louis trudge back home. Louis can’t help slipping his arm underneath Harry’s jacket and clutching his waist. If he feels Harry suck in a slight breath, he ignores it. The stairs feel impossible and Louis doesn’t catch his breath until he’s wrapped in Georgia and Eliza’s arms. The moment Harry had pushed open the door they had come rushing from the back bedroom. Louis is surrounded on all sides by people as Niall, Liam, and eventually Harry pile on.

Eventually, everyone settles into the couches in the sitting room and warm mugs are distributed. Niall had apparently immediately texted Georgia and Eliza who had rushed back to the flat and joined in on the search in the opposite direction. Niall offers for him and Liam to camp out on the couch and help with the search in the morning. Louis shakes his head despite Niall’s loud protests.

Liam collects Niall but stops before leaving, “Don’t come in tomorrow, Tommo. I already told Shawn to cover.” Louis nods and soon it’s just him, Harry, and the women sitting in silence.

“I’ll make a flyer that we can put out in the morning.” Eliza offers and pulls her laptop into her lap. Louis nods and runs his hand through his hair.

“I’m just going to go to bed.” He says as he stands. “I’m going to start looking again around 7.”

Louis doesn’t bother changing, only pulling off his jeans and collapsing under his comforter. It must be five minutes later that he hears a quiet knock on his door and sees the light spill into his room. He doesn’t bother pretending to be asleep, it wouldn’t be believable. The bed dips slightly behind him and he can feel Harry staring at his back.

He wants to say something clever, but he doesn’t even have the energy to speak. Louis nods into his pillow and the hesitant shifting of the duvet suggests Harry moving closer. The minute he feels Harry’s arms wrap around him from behind, Louis feels the tears welling up again. In one swift motion, Louis spins around and throws himself into Harry’s grasp. He hugs tightly at Harry’s neck and the two of them lie in the darkness holding each other like it’s the last time.

Louis pulls back and looks into Harry’s eyes, wide and barely visible in the darkness. He slowly leans forward, waiting for Harry to say something, to stop him. He waits for Harry to draw back and continue their hug platonically or pat his back or some other shit. But Harry doesn’t stop him and when Louis touches their lips together, he feels one of the cracks in his heart fill with light.

Kissing Harry is everything Louis imagined and nothing he could ever comprehend. It’s hesitant at first, uncertain and timid but they quickly fall into a rhythm. Louis keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Harry’s neck. Harry’s hands run up and down Louis’ side eventually slipping beneath the fabric and pressing into his skin.

Harry rolls Louis into the mattress and presses his weight into Louis’ hips. Louis gasps and whimpers slightly. As if he had been shocked, Harry freezes and rolls off Louis.

“I think I love you.” Louis whispers into the empty space above him. “I don’t know how you feel about me. But I do- love you, I mean. I have for a while now.” Louis doesn’t dare look at Harry. If he looks at him, he’ll lose his nerve and that’s the last thing he needs right now. “I know you’re fucking going through it right now. Trust me I get it, I know. I um…” Louis trails off and tries to hold on to any of the air that seems to be rushing out of his lungs.

“I love you too.” He hears Harry whisper next to him. He turns to meet Harry’s gaze and feels the tears building up again. “I’m so fucking scared to love you. I don’t want you to build hope on something broken. I don’t need to be fixed or anything, but I’m tired of pretending. Pretending that I’m okay. Pretending I didn’t fall tragically in love with you. Pretending that I don’t need you.”

Louis exhales and presses his thumb to Harry’s lip forcing him to release his bottom lip from his teeth. He searches Harry’s face for some sign of sarcasm, something to tip him off to the joke so he can get in on it. “I like to think I don’t need anyone. It’s easier that way. When they leave, I can tell myself I never needed them anyways. But there’s something about you that completes me. I don’t want to not need you.” Louis brushes a stray hair out of Harry’s face, trying to memorize every little thing about his face he never noticed before. “Today, I was scared I had lost you, like you had finally woken up and realized that you didn’t want me around anymore.”

Harry laughs, “Right, one of the only people whose actually been there for me through the worst year of my life. I’m just gonna toss that one out the window.”

“I’m trying to be serious here, H.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You should be. You pushed me down the stairs.” Louis watches as shock registers on Harry’s face.

“That… was you?” He says incredulously. Louis is pretty sure he can feel the heat radiating off of Harry’s face. “I’m so sorry, oh my god. My toast had burned and I was so mad and so late and I just… fuck I’m so sorry.” Harry runs a hand through his hair and twirls strands around his fingers embarrassedly.

Louis can’t help but gather his dorky boy in his arms.  _ His boy _ .

He’s just feeling himself drift to sleep when he hears the front door being thrown open. Harry and Louis jerk up knocking various body parts together. “What the fuck.” Louis grumbles and swings his legs out of bed, Harry following suit on the other side of the bed. When Louis gets to his door he’s met with a grinning Irish face.

“You have to be my friend forever.” Niall says clutching a bunched up jacket in his arms. “In fact, I expect a marriage proposal in the next thirty seconds.”

“What the hell are you on about?” At the sound of Louis’ voice, a small orange head pops out of the jacket and Louis can’t help falling to his knees as the adrenaline rushes through his body. Niall follows him to the ground and gently places the squirming cat in Louis’ arms. He clutches Olivia to his chest, ignoring her claws piercing his skin and the mud definitely staining his clothes. Feelings like ice water rush through Louis so fast he doesn’t know what to process first and when Harry wraps his arms around him from behind, he feels like he can breathe again.

“Li and I were trying to catch the night bus and we heard like rustling in these flower beds on a window. So Li thinks it’s a raccoon.” Niall scoffs. “I told him that was ridiculous because there aren’t any raccoons in London but of course he’s already on this bit about one of his neighbor’s friend’s houses getting rampaged by a raccoon.  _ Anyways _ , I went to go look and she was just as content to be tearin’ up that poor garden.” Louis peers down and Olivia and sure enough, there’s enough dirt caked into her fur to constitute ten baths. He doesn’t even care anymore.

“Could’ve been a raccoon though.” Liam chimes in from behind Niall.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Li, not now.” Liam huffs and joins the group on the floor.

Louis can’t be bothered by their bickering, he has his boy wrapped around his shoulders and his girl clutched in his arms. He presses a kiss to Olivia’s forehead and hears her motorboat purring begin to roar.

It’s far from perfect but it’s good. For the first time in a long time, Louis feels settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe it's over, thank you so much for reading this and i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did coming up with it and writing it  
> pls leave a comment and tell me what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to do my best with tagging but if you notice anything that should be added please let me know! I will gladly add any tags or warnings :)


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